


TITANIC: Lost in the Valley of the Night

by ColonelTravis1836



Series: TITANIC: A Grief that Can't be Spoken [1]
Category: Les Miserables
Genre: F/M, RMS Titanic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 10:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColonelTravis1836/pseuds/ColonelTravis1836
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eponine Thenadier is immigrating from Ireland with her family to the New World. She hopes for nothing eventful during the voyage; but it will turn out to be anything but uneventful.<br/>Franklin Combeferre is travelling with his roommate James Enjolras to Boston. Combeferre is hoping to break out of his bookworm days and find excitement and adventure.<br/>Marius Pontmercy is being forced into an arranged marriage by his Grandfather, and he dreads this voyage, until he bumps into a beautiful girl.<br/>Cosette Fauchelevent is a woman suffragette who is travelling with her father to New York to help spread the cause for Women's Rights. </p><p>All these and other characters intertwine with each other on the fateful voyage of the R.M.S. Titanic.<br/>Who Will Survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I do not own anything from Les Miserables. Some of the characters will originate from other countries besides France. Some will come from England, Ireland, and America as well. This story tries to tie in the RMS Titanic as faithfully as it can.   
PS: You’re probably going to hate me for changing the characteristics of some of the Les Miz Villains here, but this was an approach I wanted to try! If you don’t like it, I apologize. Can’t please everyone. Anyway, please R & R, and if you follow, I will follow too! Much obliged, and enjoy! PS/PS: Rated M for language and adult content. Viewer discretion is advised.

6:32 PM  
MONDAY, APRIL 8th, 1912  
DONEGAL, IRELAND

“Eponine Thenadier! Are you finished packing yet?!” Mrs. Thenadier called from downstairs.

Eponine sighed and called back down “I was just closing my case up, Mother.”

“Well hurry up, will ya? The cart is packed!” was her mother’s reply. 

Eponine had just closed up her suitcase, buttoned up her waistcoat, and put on her straw hat.

She returned downstairs, bags in hand, where the rest of the family had stood waiting. 

“Alright. All present and accounted for?!” Mr. Thenadier asked. 

Eponine, her little sister Azelma and her younger brother Gavroche all nodded. 

“Then let’s kiss this place goodbye and head out to the New World.” The old man said, as he grabbed his bags and headed out the door. 

“Aren’t you excited, ‘Ponine?” Gavroche asked his big sister as they walked out of their house. 

Eponine nudged him playfully on the arm and said “Just get me aboard that ship and put an end to the suspense already!” 

Azelma, who was walking a few feet in front of them, turned around and said “Only two more days, and soon she’ll set sail for New York!”

“Three days for us, Azelma dear!” Eponine reminded her. “Don’t forget, little sister, we board her from Queenstown! The ship will have left England by then!”

“Oh, sod the English!” Gavroche muttered. Eponine nudged him again to keep him from being too loud. “They get to board the ship before us! They get a whole extra day to enjoy it before us!”

“Just remember, Gavroche, the ship will save the best for the last!” Eponine whispered in his ear.

“Now remember, children.” Mr. Thenadier said to them as he loaded the last of their luggage onto the cart. “It’ll take us just enough time to reach Queenstown before she pulls into port! I want you to take the time and go through your belongings. If there is anything that is not of value to you anymore, I want you to consider selling them for a good price. We’ll need all the luck we can get in New York.”

The three children nodded and understood. It would’ve been hard for them, but they couldn’t pass up this chance in a lifetime. 

The Thenadiers would sail from Queenstown, Ireland, and sail across the Atlantic Ocean to New York, America. A Land of Great Opportunity. 

But it wasn’t just the destination that excited them all so much; it was their journey. They were going to sail aboard the brand new ship R.M.S. Titanic. 

This would be Titanic’s maiden voyage, the first trip ever. The news spread not only in England and Ireland, but also in the nations of the world. This certainly wasn’t an event to pass up. 

The Thenadier Family would travel in Third Class, or as some referred to it, Steerage. They would bunk in the lower parts of the ship, but this did not phase them. Third Class on this ship, could be considered Second Class on any other ship. If there was to be any discomfort, it would be miniscule. 

Once the cart was all packed, and the family hopped aboard, Thenadier picked up the reins attached to the horse and nudged it to trot away. 

Several of their neighbors ran towards the road to wish them a safe journey. The Thenadier children waved back to them. 

“Bask it all in, Gavroche! You’ll be a celebrity when you get back!” Eponine laughed. 

“Aye. Imagine the girls going crazy to hear you being successful like, when you come back to visit!” Gavroche replied.

Eponine remained silent as she waved back to the well-wishers.

 

9:23 PM  
THE WATERFRONT  
QUEENSTOWN, IRELAND

Bahorel O’Malley sat down in the pub just outside the docks. 

He had just finished his final shift at his old job, and he went out with a few close friends to celebrate. 

He used to work as a steel worker in the world famous Harland and Wolff Shipyard in Belfast. In fact, he had helped in the construction of the Titanic. 

And now he has signed on to serve as a crewmember so that he may secure passage to New York. He managed to secure a deal with a close friend who was a Stoker, and he agreed that as long as he pulled in his share, and helped to stoke the boilers, no questions would be asked. 

He was trying to savor his glass of beer as long as he could, knowing that by tomorrow he would need to sober up. Yes, he’s scheduled to embark three days from now, but Bahorel was not a man without principle, and he intended to make a good impression; anything to make sure he gets to New York. 

“YOU’RE OUT OF YOU’RE BLEEDIN’ MINDS! THE LOT OF YOU!” a drunken voice shouted from behind him. 

He turned around to see an angry Irishman stagger back and forth. He was confronting at least five other men. 

“If you bloody think, that this Irish Republic Resistance…er…whatever you call it, has a chance…. f-f-forget about it! The Limeys will nip you r-r-right in the bud!” the drunk exclaimed.

“It’s the Irish Republican Brotherhood, fish-face!” One of the men challenged the drunk.

“Fish-Face?” The drunk stuttered. “FISH-FACE!” He said loudly. “Did you hear that…everyone?” He called around the pub. 

Bahorel signaled for the bartender, put 10 notes on the bar, and was handed a bottle.

“He must think I am a….m-m-mirror! Because he just…called himself…a Fish-Face!” The drunk stammered. 

The man who challenged the drunk threw his glass down, sending it shattering all over the floor. 

That is when Bahorel acted.

He took the empty bottle that he paid the bartender for, and whacked the drunk on the head, sending the latter crashing to the floor knocked out cold. 

“Come on, Billy-boys!” Bahorel yelled, raising his glass of beer. “Some of us will be off in a few days! Wouldn’t ye rather wake up tomorrow with a hangover than a black eye?”

“Aye!” The crowd shouted. “Here’s to Ireland!” Bahorel toasted. The rest of the crowd cheered in response. 

Once he saw the crowd was distracted, he picked up the unconscious drunk from the ground and carried him out the back door. 

 

***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***##***###***###

“BBUFBB” the drunk gasped for air. “BBBBUBBUUB”

Bahorel had taken the unstable man and dunked his head in the water on a beach nearby. 

“En…ENOUGH!” the drunk shouted. 

“I should be telling you the same thing, Darcy Grantaire!” Bahorel replied. “You’ve made a damn arse out of yourself again. How many nights this month did I have to save your neck?”

Grantaire responded by spitting the rest of the seawater out of his mouth. “The damn fools…all of them!” 

“Look, man. A lot of the Irishmen are proud of our heritage. Are we happy with the English lords breathing down our necks? Bloody hell, no! Are you thrilled about it? Obviously not. But damn it Grantaire, you can’t just go up and about shouting your opinion about Resistance movements just because you feel strongly about the chances of success!”

Grantaire took a deep breath. “You think the Third Home Rule Bill stands a chance?” he asked Bahorel. 

“As soon as I see the Wright Brothers fly across the Pond. Of course not! Why do you think I am leaving this place behind and am off to the New World? You think I’m coming back?!” Bahorel asked.

Grantaire scoffed at him and said “Some proud Irishman you are!” 

Bahorel responded by shoving Grantaire’s head back into the water twice.

“If we had a stable government, I would be damn proud to be Irish. But we’re not even our own country. In America, they make their own laws. They have freedom. They have opportunities for everyone. You don’t see Canada or Mexico having a hold of their country do you?” Bahorel asked him rhetorically. 

Grantaire took another deep breath after spitting water out. “Ah Feck! I can’t argue with you anymore, Bahorel O’Malley. It just ain’t worth it, I tell you.”

“What’s happened to you, Darcy Grantaire? You were once one of the top Engineers on this side of the Atlantic, and now you’re stumbling around pubs looking for fights.” 

“An Engineer, aye. But how do you think it favors with the rest of Ireland to have a Catholic service as an Engineer? Hmm?” Grantaire asked, looking Bahorel in the eye. 

Bahorel’s expression fades. He never knew until now of Grantaire’s religious background. 

“Hey, we still have two more days before I leave. Why don’t I sign you up?” He asked the drunk. 

Grantaire looked at him. “What the feck are you talking about?” 

“There’s nothing for you here in Ireland. Come sign on with me, and we can leave this place behind and you can get a better job in New York, or somewhere better than here.” 

Bahorel placed his hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. “What would you have me do?” the latter asked. 

“You could be an Engineer again. Titanic is supposed to be the world’s fastest ship, you know. We’ll need all the power we can get! Whaddya say, pal?” Bahorel asked. 

Grantaire thought about it; it was his first sober thought in a long time. 

He wasn’t sure of what would come in the future for him. But then again, he hardly had anything to lose.

He then picks up his bottle and he asks Bahorel “I’m going to have to lose this, aren’t I?” 

Bahorel nodded. “After we sign you up first thing tomorrow morning, we’ll spend the next two days getting you to sober up. Also, you will not challenge anyone to a fight while you’re aboard. If you do get hired, and they find out you start a riot, your pay will be forfeited. Got it?” 

Grantaire took a deep breath again…looked at his bottle. Before Bahorel could say or do anything, he took one last chug and threw the bottle into the sea.

“‘Tis a crime to waste good drink; but ‘tis a sacrifice I’ll make, for my only friend.” He said.  
Bahorel smiled. “I’m proud of you, buddy boy!” 

 

12:35 PM  
TUESDAY, APRIL 9th, 1912  
LONDON, ENGLAND

Franklin Combeferre was going through his paperwork, when James Enjolras came into the flat. 

“Have you spoken to the landlord?” Combeferre asked the latter. 

“Yes. We’ve just finished now.” Enjolras replied.

“And how did he take it?” 

“Surprisingly well. I’m surprised he wasn’t overcome with grief over the idea.” 

Combeferre chuckled. “I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have. We are after all, his favorite tenants since the beginning of time.” 

“That is true. But he ended up telling me that we needed to grow, expand our horizons. He was happy for us. Besides, I’m quite positive he was rather envious of our plight.” 

“We’re only sailing on the Titanic. I can’t see why he’d be jealous.” 

Enjolras laughed with his roommate. He then returned to his side of the flat, and checked his luggage. “Everything packed?” He asked.

“Just a few odds and ends. But otherwise, I am ready. Actually, just thinking about it is making me rather jumpy.” 

“I know…I wish it was tomorrow already too. The suspense is killing me!” Enjolras said. 

“You know what? Let’s forget this and go and take our landlord out to lunch. I think it’ll be a nice treat for him, getting to spend our last day together.” Combeferre suggested.

“That’s a splendid idea.” Enjolras said.

The two of them finished what they were doing, and headed downstairs.

###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***

Lunch was great. Enjolras, Combeferre, and their landlord, Mr. Lamarque ate at his favorite little café two blocks away from Big Ben. 

When the three of them returned to the flat, Mr. Lamarque had turned to them and said “I can’t tell you how happy I am that we’ve gotten to have lunch together. You two are the kindest, most generous tenants I’ve ever had the privilege to have.” 

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, sir. You were our most generous landlord. We truly will miss you.” Enjolras said, patting the old man on the shoulder.

Mr. Lamarque playfully shoved his hand aside. “Oh! I am an old man. My days for getting emotional are long gone.” 

Combeferre nudged him on the arm. “Nonsense! You are forever young. It will be a cold day in hell before you age another day!”

“We’ll be absolutely sure to write you when we arrive in New York. You’ll be our priority!” Enjolras said.

“Definitely. In fact, we can actually send you a telegram straight from the ship itself! It comes equipped with the latest in technological advances!” Combeferre boasted.

“I cannot wait for it!” Lamarque said excitedly. 

“Will you come with us to Southampton tomorrow to see us off?” Enjolras asked. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” The old man exclaimed. 

The three of them smiled and returned to the flat building.

 

1:23 PM  
MANCHESTER, ENGLAND  
The servants were busy moving luggage and trunks and suitcases into the second car. Lord Gillenormand was overseeing the loading. 

“Everything is strapped and labeled?” he had asked his valet. “Yes, M’lord. The Company has provided us with plenty of labels for the luggage. Everything is in order.” The Valet, Mabeuf answered. 

“Excellent. That will be all.” Gillenormand said. 

The two of them returned inside their mansion. “Marius!” The Lord called out. 

Marius Pontmercy hustled downstairs. Gillenormand cleared his throat in an authoritative tone. 

Marius turned around, rolled his eyes, then walked back down the stairs with his back straight, looking proper this time. 

“You called, Grandfather?” the young man asked.

“Yes. The car is prepared. We’re about to leave soon. Is everything taken care of?” 

“Yes, Grandfather.” 

“Excellent.” The old man said, before walking outside to the first car. “We’ll drive down to Southampton, and see to it that the baggage we don’t need is safe and secure aboard the ship.” 

“Yes, Grandfather.” Marius said, closing his eyes so that the Lord doesn’t see him roll them. 

The two of them climbed into their red Rolls-Royce 40 50HP Silver Ghost Replica Tourer convertible. The chauffer closed their doors and returned to the front seat when he started the car, and drove down the road. 

The car ride would’ve been pleasant. It was a nice day for a drive. The sun was shining. It was a clear blue sky. 

But the mood was overcast.

“I’ve read up quite a lot about America.” Marius spoke up. Lord Gillenormand held onto his cane. “Oh?” is all he said. 

“Yes. They’ve made quite a lot of progress. Did you know that the Women’s Suffragette Movement is sweeping the nation?” 

“Arrogance! Pure arrogance! They’ll never know their place again! It will bring nothing but ruin on the country.” The old man spat as he tapped his cane on the car floor. 

“I personally do not completely understand their demands. But I must commend them for their bravery and their persistence. They’ll do whatever it takes to have an equal say in things. They’re not afraid to speak their minds, and they’re also very independent.” 

“Marius…” the old man began. His grandson turned to face him. “You’re still going through with it.” 

Marius rolled his eyes. “We’re travelling to a free country, and yet I am still sentenced to a fate worse than death!” he muttered.

“This will be a fine marriage, Marius. The Kerringtons are a wealthy and respectable family. Their daughter is a charming young woman.” 

Marius scoffed. “As long as there’s wealth, what’s the point of respect?” 

“Marius! I will not tolerate this behavior of yours anymore. This family household has a reputation to uphold. The marriage to the Kerringtons will be good to both sides. I will not have you ruining things. Do you understand me?”

“Yes…sir.” Marius emphasized on the “s” sound of both words, giving off a hint of a hissing sound. 

“Besides, you must give the girl a chance. She has taken a liking to you. It would be a fine healthy marriage anyway.” 

Marius huffed. There was no way out of this situation. 

“Hypothetically…” he treaded lightly, not to provoke his grandfather’s anger. “in the unlikely event that she happens to get cold feet on the day of the *arranged* marriage…” he fake-coughed on the word ‘arranged’. “where would that leave the two families? I’m honestly asking out of curiosity.” 

Gillenormand looked at his grandson and scoffed. “Very unlikely. Our ancestral families have remained good friends for the last eighty years.” 

“Grandfather, I only ask that you humor me here, in a hypothetical situation. What if she throws a scene, or runs away? How will our families react?” 

“I know what you’re doing, Marius. You’re trying to get my opinion on the matter to see if I would be as offended if she refused to marry you, as you would her. You’re waiting to call me out for a double standard.” 

“So it’s true. If she backs out of the wedding, then you’d be more worried and concerned. But if I back out, I’m the bad guy. Typical.” Marius said angrily. He turned his face away. 

There was no hope. Marius would never have his grandfather see his way now. He was doomed from the moment his grandfather and his soon-to-be father-in-law arranged the whole damn thing. 

3:59 PM  
DORCHESTER, ENGLAND

Cosette Fauchelevant was combing her hair in her bedroom. But she wasn’t concentrating at the mirror. Instead, she was combing her hair while gazing outside the window. 

“Cosette? Are you well? It’s time for tea.” her father called. 

“Coming Father…” she sighed. She threw her comb on the bed and walked down to the Parlor. 

Her father, Jonathon “Valjean” Fauchelevant was sitting in his comfy chair, reading the newspaper. Their maid, Mrs. Toussaint had rolled out the tea cart. 

Cosette took her seat by the couch. Her father picked up the pot and poured the tea into the two cups. Cosette thanked him, and picked up two lumps of sugar and stirred it into her cup.

Her father watched her silently. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy move, but he knew in his heart that she couldn’t stay here. 

“Father?” she asked. He put his cup down and looked up at her.

“Are you ashamed of me?” He was taken back by that question. “Darling, I would never even begin…why would you even ask such a silly question?” he asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders, but kept them back straight, remembering good posture. “I feel like I am responsible for so much disgrace to your name.” She looked down at her cup. 

Valjean waved it off. “You mean well, my dear. Your heart is in the right place. You are an inspiration to women everywhere!” 

“Then why am I being chased out of England? Why doesn’t Parliament acknowledge our rights?” 

Valjean smiled. “If they were chasing you out, and I would make it quite sure that they never even think to do so, it would only be because they are frightened of you.” 

Cosette giggled. “You don’t have to pretend to make me feel better.”

“Ah, but it is the truth my dear.” Her father said. She looked up to meet his eyes. “You really are an inspiration to hundreds of women. Why, just the other day, on my way to bail you out of the prison for that little…mix up with the police, I saw at least thirty more women with picket signs and guess what?” 

Cosette listened intently.  
“All of them were chanting your name. Some of the signs had said ‘Free Cosette!’. They all look up to you. And speaking for a cause I find very commendable, I have to say I have never been more proud of you.” 

Cosette held her fingers to her lips to cover her mouth. She was in awe. 

“And…” he continued. “Remember how I told the authorities that I would take you to New York to keep you out of their hair?” She nodded. “That’s what I ‘told’ them. I intended to take you to New York, so that you may expand your talents to the American Women.” He smiled.

Cosette placed her cup down on the cart and ran over to hug her father. “Oh thank you Daddy!” 

It was true. Valjean was moved by Cosette’s modern view on change, and he was more than supportive of it. What he didn’t tell her was that he had personally feared that she would’ve grown too powerful, and therefore, a rather obvious target from political opponents. But she was still inspirational, so it wasn’t like he was lying to her. 

The two finished tea, and Cosette returned to her room to supervise the maids packing the rest of her clothes. 

She couldn’t wait to imagine what lied ahead of her in the next few days. But she knew it would be unforgettable.


	2. APRIL 10th 1912

8:23 PM  
TUESDAY, APRIL 9th, 1912  
CHERBOURG, FRANCE

“Where are Lesgles and Prouvaire?” asked Joly Rivera. 

“They said they’d be here at around 8:30. Relax, Mon Ami. They will be here.” Henri Courfeyrac replied. 

Joly sighed. “My apologies, Henri. As you know me, I tend to overreact.” 

“I know it. But this time you have good reason to. We will be sailing aboard none other than the Titanic herself! Oh she will be quite a beauty I’m sure!” Courfeyrac sighed. 

Joly shrugged his shoulders. “Just as long as there are no bad omens for this voyage. Just get me to New York as soon as possible!” 

Just then, Julien Lesgles and Jean Prouvaire had arrived, running to the other two. “Sorry we are late! It took longer at the ticket office than we had planned for!” Lesgles said, gasping for air.

Courfeyrac placed his hand on Lesgles. “Have faith, Julien. Even if you didn’t get the tickets tonight we’d still have until tomorrow evening until the ship arrives!” 

“Listen…” Prouvaire began. “You guys do know that we are on a tight budget, right?” 

Joly and Courfeyrac nodded. “Well, apparently, it’ll cost more money for just one room in First Class than all of our currently-untouchable trust funds combined. So if it’s ok with everyone, we’re going to have to travel in Second Class.”

“Ugh, I feel like this is my fault, friends. I tried to save as much as I could but then the train fares from Paris, then overnight stay at the hotel…”

“Julien! Calm down!” Courfeyrac said. “We wouldn’t have been able to have afforded it anyway. Besides, it can’t be THAT big of a deal! Second Class has its own Library! Prouvaire will be lost in his own world!”

“Hey, just as long as they have plenty of poetry books to keep me occupied, just send the meals to my table!” Prouvaire laughed. 

“Anyway, the good news is we managed to purchase two cabins that aren’t too far apart from each other!” 

“Why two?” Joly asked.  
“Each cabin has two bunks and a sofa. It’ll get quite cozy in there.” Julien replied. 

 

9:00 AM  
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 10th, 1912  
WHITE STAR LINE DOCKS,   
SOUTHAMPTON, ENGLAND  
Feuilly Kowalski was originally of Polish descent, but had spent the majority of his sixteen years of life in England, to work in the countryside as a fan maker. 

His mother had died at childbirth, so he and his father moved to England for a new life. They lived in a small fishing village, The Mousehole, in Cornwall. His father made it a living to go out to sea and catch enough fish to sell for a good price. 

Unfortunately, his father took a fishing trip one too many, and headed out into a storm. He was never seen again. 

This put Feuilly in a bad situation. He decided his only way out was to sell his business, and to make for a trip to America, having literally nothing left to lose. 

So he sent money to the White Star Ticket offices, and they replied with a single Third Class ticket to New York from Southampton, aboard the Titanic. So he boarded the train that would travel from Cornwall to the docks. 

***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###**###

The train whistle woke Feuilly up from his sleep. He had arrived at his destination. When he looked out the window, he could not believe his eyes. 

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. There’s no way he could be sailing on that! 

Royal Mail Ship Titanic. 882 % feet long, 92 feet high. She was so long, that if she was placed on her end, she would’ve been taller than any building in the world. 

Her long iron-plated hull, was painted ¾ black on the bottom, from what Feuilly could see, and the top quarter was painted solid white. The two colors were separated by a gold painted line.

On the main deck stood her most iconic feature. The four funnels. The bottom halves were painted a light tan, while the tops were painted in black. Only three were needed; the fourth was there to please the eye. 

Feuilly stepped off the train and couldn’t keep his eyes off of the glorious ship. Finally focusing his attention, he picked up his bags and proceeded down to the Third Class Gangways. 

***###***###***###***###***###***###***###***###**###***###***###***###***###

Enjolras and Combeferre stepped off of their section of the train around the same time as Feuilly. They too were just as awestruck by the sight of this magnificent ship. 

“Never thought it possible, huh?” Combeferre asked his friend. 

“I knew she was something to brag about, but the papers weren’t joking.” Enjolras replied. 

They picked up their luggage and proceeded down to the baggage check in station. 

***###***###***###***###***###***###***

Marius stepped off of his section of the train, and couldn’t keep his eyes off of the ship. For the first time in a few years, he felt speechless. That is…until…

“Hurry up, Marius!” his Grandfather called out. 

He sighed and picked up his suitcase. “Coming, Grandfather.” 

Marius followed after Lord Gillenormand as closely as he could. He suddenly became so entranced by the beauty of the ship he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going…

***###***###***###***###***###***

Neither was Cosette.

She too was distracted, that she did not have time to see the young man bump into her.

“Oh my…I do apologize Miss; I wasn’t looking where I was…”

She turned around to face the man, and was suddenly at a loss for words. 

So was Marius. 

“Oh…uh…no harm done.” She responded, straightening herself up, and adjusting her large hat. 

“Cosette?” Her father called. She became all flustered and rushed to catch up to her father. 

“Marius?! Are you going to stand there all day?!” Gillenormand called out. 

Marius did not answer this time, when he gathered his things and hurried after his grandfather.

 

11:00 AM  
RMS Titanic  
Scotland Road, E-Deck

“Well that didn’t go as well as planned.” Bahorel muttered as he and Grantaire were shuffling past other crew members. 

Bahorel and Grantaire took the two days to travel down to Southampton from where they were, so that they could board the Titanic early. They managed to sign on nonetheless, but Grantaire couldn’t be taken in as an engineer, but instead, as a trimmer.

“Okay, so they’re full up on engineers right now. At least they managed to have me sign on to begin with.” Grantaire replied. 

“Yeah, fair enough.” Bahorel said. “So you’re fine with being a trimmer until we reach New York?” 

“It’s just transferring coal from its bunker to the boilers back and forth isn’t it?”

“Aye.” 

“If it helps to distract me, then you’ll know where to find me!” Grantaire laughed. 

Bahorel chuckled alongside his friend. They had already settled into their section of the firemen’s quarters, so they were already headed down to their station down below.

Finding a steel hatch, they saw the sign that read BOILER ROOMS. Bahorel rotated the valve and opened the door. 

No sooner had they opened the door, then suddenly a blast of heat blew in their face. The heat came from the 29 boilers that helped to operate the ship’s power. 

Bahorel and Grantaire reported to their foreman, Leading Fireman Frederick Barrett. 

“Alright, let’s slip the introductions and get on with it! We got a ship to move!” Barret bellowed. 

Grantaire went to the nearest wheelbarrow and took it to the coal bunker. And as he began to load the coal into the wheelbarrow with his shovel, Bahorel took his shovel and threw the coal into the furnace. 

 

11:15 AM  
Third Class Cabins  
F-Deck, Bow Section

“Does anyone know where I can find F-59?” Feuilly asked in the huddled crowd of other Steerage Passengers. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to understand English. He tried asking again in his native tongue. No one seemed to understand Polish either. 

“Anyone English speaking?!” He called out louder. 

“I am!” called out a young voice. Feuilly turned around to see a young man who looked no older than himself. “Alfred Rush! You trying to find your cabin?” the stranger said.

“Yes! I know I’m on F-Deck, but I can’t find Cabin 59. Any idea where….”

“Actually, that’s my cabin too! Hang on to my collar. I’ll lead you out of this crowd!” Alfred said. 

Thankful, Feuilly grabbed a hold of Alfred’s coat, and followed his new friend back in the other direction. 

The two passed around corner to corner, hallway to hallway. Men from all different kinds of countries were scattered around, trying to translate the signs on the walls into their own languages. 

“Here we are! F-59!” Alfred said, before opening his door. 

There were two other men already in the room. Feuilly looked inside to see two sets of bunk beds on both sides of the wall. It felt cramped, but Feuilly wouldn’t complain. It would only be a few days of cramped sleeping conditions, and he would soon be in the New World. 

“I guess we’re all here. Tom, August, this is…um…” Alfred began. 

“Feuilly Kowalski. Poland.” He said, offering his hand.

“Tom Theobold.” Said the first man shaking Feuilly’s hand. 

“August Wennerstrom.” Said the other. 

“Why don’t you two take the top bunks. You’re both younger, and will probably have less trouble climbing in and out!” Tom suggested.

“Good idea!” Alfred said. He and Feuilly both threw their suitcases on top of their beds and climbed up. 

“So, Feuilly. What brings you aboard White Star’s finest ship.” Tom asked. 

“It will probably sound cliché by now; but I am just searching for a new start. America is as good a place as any for that. I’ve a feeling!” Feuilly answered.

“Mr. Theobold and I are travelling with the Goldsmiths. Frank, Emily, and their son Frank Jr. We’re all going to Detroit, Michigan for work.” Alfred said. 

“I’m the same as Feuilly.” August said. “I’m looking for a fresh start.”

“Well, then gents!” Tom said as he picked up his water glass from the sink. “Here’s a farewell to the Old World, and on with the New!” 

 

11:26 AM  
Second Class Cabins  
D-Deck, Aft Section

“The Purser said we’re on this level. So our cabin should be somewhere close by.” Combeferre said, looking at the signs pointing the direction of corridor sections. 

“Over here!” Enjolras said, finding a sign. “Cabins 24-40 are down this hall to the left. Cabins 25-41 are straight down this hallway.”

“What’s our Cabin number again?” Combeferre asked. 

Enjolras looked at his ticket and said “Cabin…43.” 

They both sighed. “Our luck, I suppose.” Combeferre chuckled. 

“It just means we have to turn around.” Enjolras replied.

After another few minutes of painstakingly searching, they finally found their cabin. 

They opened it up and found two bunks, and a sofa sitting opposite. 

“Quite cozy, isn’t it?” Enjolras said, with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Oh come now! Only about six or seven days. And besides, they have a Library I hear. We wouldn’t be confined to these quarters the entire voyage!” 

“I suppose you’re right, Frank. Can you imagine the look on Lamarque’s face if he saw this cabin compared to our flat?” Enjolras asked. The two laughed.

 

11:39 AM  
First Class Cabins  
C-Deck, Mid-Ship

“This will be your room, Marius.” His Grandfather pointed. “Mabeuf, put the trunk over by the window.” 

The Valet rolled in Marius’s trunk and set it down standing up just by the portholes on the wall. 

“They’ll be serving lunch soon, I suppose.” Gillenormand said looking at his pocket-watch. “I’ll let you get settled then, shall I?” 

“Yes, thank you…Grandfather.” Marius responded. 

“Are you well? You look unfit.” 

“I am fine…I must simply get my sea legs. What time will we lunch?” Marius asked.

“Twelve o’clock, sharp! The Dining Saloon is down on D-Deck. Do not be late.” Gillenormand ordered, before walking away.

“Shall I unpack you, sir?” Mabeuf asked.

“No thank you. My Grandfather will probably need your services for other important matters.” Marius said, rolling his eyes. 

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn…” Mabeuf began. “But I really wished you didn’t have to say that.” 

Marius smiled. Even though he was under his Grandfather’s grasp, he knew he had his trusty Valet to rely on, even if only in conversation.

“I’ll unpack myself later, Mabeuf. I need to get some fresh air before I go down to the Saloon.” 

“Very good sir.” And with that, Mabeuf left.

The truth was Marius didn’t need to worry about obtaining sea legs. He was too busy being preoccupied with the girl he had bumped into. He wanted to see her again…to speak with her…at least to make polite conversation. Surely, his Grandfather couldn’t ever object to that.

 

11:55 AM  
B-Deck, Mid-ships

Cosette entered her father’s stateroom, after having settled into her own.

“Is your room satisfactory, my dear?” He asked, while supervising the unpacking that his servants were handling. 

“Of course. It’s almost too perfect.” She answered. 

“I should think so. You look much better than you did yesterday. You seem…happier.” Valjean observed. 

She did feel happier…and she also felt curious…curious about the boy that bumped into her. He’s been on her mind since that moment. This was strange to her, because in all the years that she grew to have an independent mind, and after all the rallies and demonstrations for her right to vote, she actually felt flustered when she thought of a man.

“I know lunch will be served shortly, Father. But may we take a stroll on deck first? I’m sure there will be great excitement since we’ll be departing!” She asked.

“Of course, my dear. I was going to suggest the very thing!” Her father got up, and linked his arm with hers.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Cosette never took the chance to admire the Grand Staircase until now. 

When they climbed up to A-Deck, even her father was awestruck. The Grand Staircase was probably one of the more iconic features of the Titanic’s interior design. 

The decoration of the staircase was a curious combination of styles. The paneling and woodwork were made by master craftsmen in the English William and Mary style. The iron banister grillwork and ormolu garlands were inspired by the French court of Louis XIV.

Typically, during these times, a bronze cherub held aloft a lamp to light the landings of the staircase. Many years earlier, lampstands had been placed at the foot of staircases for safety. However, with dozens of gilded crystal chandeliers lighting Titanic's entrance hallways and staircases, the cherubs on Titanic were ornamental. 

There were two staircases for the First Class Passengers. This was the main one, and the second one was in the aft section of the ship. The main one had connected the five levels of the First Class Cabins from the Boat Deck down to E-Deck. 

With each deck, the staircase wall was complimented by a painting on the landing. 

But the art on the Boat Deck’s staircase, was a real masterpiece. Instead of an oil painting, it was a wood sculpture of two angels, and in between, was a clock. The inscription read “Honor and Glory Crowing Time”. 

And to top it all off, was a very large glass dome, that was painted white, so that the natural sunlight could shine through, naturally illuminating the room by day, and artificially by night. And the dome was complimented further with a golden crystal chandelier. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Cosette and Valjean exited out of the staircase and onto the Boat Deck. There with them was hundreds of fellow passengers waving to their loved ones on the docks. 

Cosette suddenly had to cover her ears from the excruciatingly loud whistle that blew from the first funnel. 

“That’s the signal.” Valjean said. “We’ll be sailing soon.” 

12:00 PM  
Bridge  
Captain Edward John Smith entered the Bridge, with his iconic white beard, and medals pinned on his coat. 

“Captain on the Bridge!” exclaimed Officer Javert, who made his salute.

“Thank you, Javert.” The Captain said, returning the salute. “Are all tugs fast?” he asked.

“Tugs are all fast, sir.” Officer Murdoch answered.

“The gangways?” 

“Gangways are lowered away, sir.” Officer Lightoller replied.

“Let go the lines then.” The Captain ordered.

Javert and Officer Pitman then walked over to their stations, and placed their hands on the engine order telegraphs.

“Stand by, engines.” 

Quartermaster Hitchens gripped the wheel. 

“Ahead Slow!” Captain Smith declared. 

Javert and Pitman pushed the levers forward with two clicks. Within a minute, the dials had followed suit; that was the Engine Room’s way of acknowledging the order.

#*#*#*#*#*#

“Alright, you dogs!” Barrett shouted. “We’re underway! Come on! Put your backs into it!” 

It’s only been less than an hour and already, Bahorel is sweating like a pig, shoveling coal into the furnace. Grantaire is already covered in soot. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#

Enjolras and Combeferre stepped outside of the Second Class Staircase and onto the Boat Deck. They hurried over to the railing on the Port side to see the crowds of people waving back and cheering.

“Think of it, James! We’re not even in America yet, and already we’re celebrities!” Combeferre nudged Enjolras in the shoulder. The two waved back aimlessly at the thousands of people at the docks. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Feuilly and Alfred climbed out to the Forecastle Deck, and managed to squeeze through enough people to find two spots at the railing of the bow. 

They too shared the same excitement as Enjolras and Combeferre. 

“You know anyone down there?” Alfred asked.

“No.” Feuilly answered. 

“Me neither but who cares?” And the two of them waved at the crowds. 

After another whistle blow, the ship was slowly inching away from the dock, and proceeding forward. 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Marius leaned over the railing to see the crowds slowly fading away as they waved goodbye. 

He took a deep breath as he looked sadly into the distance. This would probably be the last time he would ever see England. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

“Half ahead. 20 Degrees to Port.” Smith ordered. Hitchens complied and spun the wheel to his left. 

Javert pushed his lever forward one click, as did Pitman.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The Titanic had slowly begun to pick up speed. Around the corner of her dock, there were two smaller ships at bay. The Oceanic, and tied up next to her, was the New York.

Marius had looked over to his right. His heart did somersaults. There she was again…the mysterious girl he had only met hours ago. He wondered if he should go and introduce himself. 

But there stood an older gentleman next to her. Was he her escort? It wasn’t uncommon for single women to have a gentleman escort, or, to be blunt, a bodyguard. Or was it perhaps her father.

That seemed more likely. Either way, he couldn’t find the courage to go up to her and introduce himself without seeming too forward. He couldn’t find a way to make polite conversation.

The Titanic was about midway past the two docked ships when…

SNAP!

#*#*#*#*#*#*

“What was that?” Combeferre asked. Enjolras shrugged his shoulders, before quickly saying “Look!” 

The two of them looked straight out. The New York had mooring lines that kept her tied up to the Oceanic. One of the lines was found floating in the water.

SNAP!

Another mooring line could be seen flying in the air, as if it was yanked out of its spot.

SNAP! And another. SNAP!

And soon, the snapping of the lines drew everyone’s attention. 

Javert walked over to the Port Wing of the Bridge. 

“It’s the New York!” Cried Officer Boxhall. “She’s broken free of her moorings!”

“Full Astern!” Smith shouted. 

Javert and Pitman returned to their telegraphs and yanked the levers backwards as far as they could go. 

Cosette gripped onto her father’s arm tightly. He could see panic in her eyes.

Marius too saw the potential of disaster, as the stern of the New York suddenly drew closer and closer to the side of Titanic. 

A few minutes of nail-biting suspense later, and suddenly the wash from Titanic’s reversing propellers, helped push the New York away, while a few nearby tenders arrived on the scene to help drag the smaller ship away, as Titanic resumed its course. 

The whole process took within an hour, but eventually, the New York was towed away, and the Titanic continued its journey out of Southampton. 

 

1:05 PM  
First Class Dining Saloon  
D-Deck

“Marius George Pontmercy!” Gillenormand declared angrily. “Have you no punctuality at all?!” He nearly stabbed the carpeted floor with his cane.

Marius entered the saloon and joined his Grandfather at their table. 

The Dining Saloon was the largest room in the whole ship, and could seat at least 500 people.

“My apologies, Grandfather. We were underway, and we almost had a collision and…”

“When I say twelve o’clock, I perfectly well mean twelve o’clock! Disgraceful!” 

And that’s when Marius had reached his breaking point. He tried to maintain the volume of his voice so as not to alarm the fellow passengers.

“Grandfather, we nearly had an emergency on deck. Another ship almost collided with us, and your prime concern is my punctuality. As long as it upholds to your standards, that’s all you ever care about. I have lived these past five years in pure hell, having to put up with your iron fist. I can never say anything; I can’t even so much as sneeze, without you giving off your disgusted look. Why don’t we both just admit it right now. The only reason you’re forcing me to marry this girl, is because it will make her father happy, and therefore it will make you happy. Your happiness always comes before anyone else’s! Well I have had enough! I will not spend the rest of this voyage being tied down by the grasp of a self-righteous man who cares only about his own feelings!” 

Gillenormand was livid. Marius stood up from his chair and walked away. 

In the D-Deck Reception Room, Marius was met by Mabeuf. 

“I saw.” 

“Oh, Mabeuf…he drove me over the edge…I couldn’t help myself.” 

“You know, Master Pontmercy, as his personal valet, I would’ve objected to your opinions for him…” he said, sternly. 

Marius lowered his head. Mabeuf continued. “But as your personal friend…I must say that was exhilarating to watch.” The valet smiled. Marius felt at ease. 

 

6:25 PM  
CHERBOURG, FRANCE

“She should be here by now!” Joly said, writhing his hands.

“Maybe they didn’t sail right away.” Prouvaire suggested. 

“I don’t know.” Julien said. “White Star has always been very reliable. I’m sure there’s a rational explanation…”

“Look! There she is!” Courfeyrac shouted, pointing towards the sea.

Because the Titanic was so large, there were no docks at Cherbourg large or deep enough, to accommodate her. So the White Star Line had arranged for two of their small ferries, the Nomadic and the Traffic, to carry the passengers and mail over to the ship.

The four students quickly grabbed their bags, and were among the first to board the Nomadic. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Mon Dieu!” whispered Courfeyrac.

The four of them were speechless. They stared at the ship, jaws dropped and eyes widened. She was even more radiant against the orange sunset, and her lights all burning bright. There were even lights reflecting against the four funnels, giving them a glowing sensation,

“There she is, men. The pride of England herself.” Prouvaire exhaled. 

Ten minutes later, and the Nomadic had lined itself up with the Starboard Hull of the larger ship. 

Courfeyrac tilted his head back and thought he was looking at a very large wall. 

The gang plank was lowered, and the passengers began filing out, and climbing up towards the gangway door. 

When the four students reached the door, they showed their tickets and were escorted to the Second Class section of the ship. There they met with the Purser and checked in. Once they were handed their keys they made their way to their cabins. 

As they walked through the hallway, Prouvaire overheard a conversation between two men. 

“I tell you, James, I could’ve fallen asleep inside that library. The atmosphere was so…relaxing and calm. It was amazing.”   
Prouvaire couldn’t help himself. “Begging your pardon, monsieur. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Did you say the library aboard was…comfortable to say the least?” 

“Oh, of course, my good man! The book selection is rather limited, but just to sit in the comfy chairs and be lost in a book, I could sit there for hours.” Combeferre replied.

“I’m surprised they don’t send up his meals to him!” Enjolras joked. 

“Franklin Combeferre is the name. This here is James Enjolras.” 

“Jean Prouvaire. These are my schoolmates; Henri Courfeyrac, Julien Lesgles, and Joly Rivera.”

The six men exchanged handshakes. 

“You’ve all boarded from Cherbourg?” Enjolras asked.

“Oui! We are travelling to America to study abroad. Joly enrolled at Harvard Medical School at the University. Lesgles and Courfeyrac are looking to become experts in the infant world of Psychology, and I am studying Literature.” Prouvaire explained. 

“Quite a purpose!” Combeferre replied. “Enjolras and I both work as lawyers from Carlson & Pringle. They’ve opened a new office in Boston, and we’ve been transferred there!” 

“Well, I do hope we can continue with this discussion as soon as possible. We’d just like to find our cabins. We’ll meet you at the Library?” Julien asked.

“Certainly! We’ll be there!” Combeferre answered. 

Before they could part ways, Joly turned to the two Englishmen. “By the way, I noticed that the ship was supposed to arrive at 5:30. Was there anything that happened?” 

Enjolras and Combeferre’s expressions dropped for a moment. Enjolras spoke up. “As we were departing, not a few minutes into the start, and we’ve almost had a collision. The Captain was sailing too fast in shallow waters, and caused a wake, pulling a stationary ship into our path. It was caught in the nick of time. No damage was done; it was only a close call.” 

“Oh Mon Dieu! That is a bad omen!” Joly said. 

Courfeyrac put his arm around Joly’s shoulder and said “Relax, Mon Ami, this is a ship that is unsinkable!”

Joly looked at his friend in the eye and said “Well, that just flies in the face of God.” 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“He seemed rather worried.” Enjolras told Combeferre of Joly as they entered the library. 

“Probably just superstitious. It’s not uncommon. Earlier this afternoon, I saw a family of three on the Second Class Promenade. The father was trying to reassure the mother the exact same thing. I felt terrible for the little girl.” Combeferre said. 

Enjolras sat down at a table, while Combeferre walked over to the bookshelf.

“Alright, I’ll be the one to ask you, Frank. Are we going to spend the entire voyage sitting and reading primitive books?” 

Combeferre turned around to face Enjolras. “What on Earth are you talking about?” 

“Well, you’ve spent the better part of today gazing at the lot of these books. Are you going to be doing this until we land in New York?” 

“James, how is this any different than the two of us spending hours at our library back in London?” 

“We’re on a ship, and by this time tomorrow night, we’ll be in the middle of the ocean. One of these days, you’ll take your old nose out of a book and see that life has passed you by.” 

Combeferre adjusted his glasses. He knew he couldn’t argue with Enjolras. 

“I suppose you’re right, my friend. But what else is there to do?” he asked. 

“I mean…yes there are other activities aboard, like shuffleboard, or promenading around the deck. But where’s the excitement? Where’s the adventure in any of that?” 

Enjolras looked at his friend. 

“For quite some time, I’ve been meaning to just…burst out of my shell and find myself some excitement. But I haven’t found the right call. And now, with all of the hoopla and excitement of the Titanic embarking on its maiden voyage, and the crème de la crème of high society sailing with us, I feel like there’s an adventure that’s just waiting to hatch!” 

Enjolras chuckled. “That’s peculiar, Franklin. I’ve never heard you open up this way before.”

Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. “There’s just something about this ship that just…makes me feel alive. And I want to find out why.” 

Later on the four Frenchmen joined the two Englishmen, and the topic was dropped.


	3. APRIL 11th, 1912

7:43 PM  
RMS Titanic, First Class Dining Saloon  
CHERBOURG, FRANCE

Marius sat by himself in the Dining Saloon. Part of him felt awful about the way he spoke to his Grandfather earlier today. But if he tried to apologize now, Gillenormand would see this as his sign of gaining the upper hand, and then Marius will never fully be free. 

So he had Mabeuf give his Grandfather a message, explaining that until the voyage was complete, Marius would need some space to himself. To Marius’s surprise, his Grandfather granted this.

But he didn’t feel alone. He sat at a small table, but in a good position. He could see everyone who was anyone, enter the Saloon. And the newcomers from Cherbourg were making their entrance as well. 

Colonel John Jacob Astor IV and his young wife Madeline entered first. Astor was probably the richest man on the ship, if not the world. He is known for founding the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, as well as being the inventor of the bicycle brake, and a device for flattening road surfaces. He was recently divorced from his first wife, Ava. It was his sudden second marriage to Madeline that stirred up a lot of controversy. He was 47, and she was only 18, and already she could be seen with her hands around her belly. 

Benjamin Guggenheim, an American Millionaire also shocked his fellow passengers by travelling home with his latest mistress, Madame Aubert.

Isador and Ida Strauss were an elderly Jewish couple. They were well known, because Mr. Strauss had co-founded the Macy’s Department Store in New York. And he was an advisor to President Cleveland. 

Major Archibald Butt was President William Taft’s personal aide.

Dorothy Gibson rose to fame after her appearances in several of the latest craze: moving pictures. 

And last but not least, there was Margaret “Maggie” Brown. Marius had grown to be good friends with the Colorado born woman. She was born in simpler times, and married a simple miner. But after good investments, the couple rose up in society. Unfortunately, due to disagreements, the couple separated. Maggie Brown had left for Europe, and travelled along with the Astors. 

“Well, bless my Great Aunt Agnes!” Marius heard her call out. “If it isn’t the dashing young man, Mr. Pontmercy!” Mrs. Brown approached his table. 

“Mrs. Brown! How lovely to see you! I didn’t know you were aboard!” Marius stood up to embrace his friend. 

“You didn’t know?! Oh heaven help me, you’d better keep hush about that lest you don’t want to be featured in the papers of such a scandal!” Mrs. Brown said playfully, winking her eye.

“Your secret’s safe with me!” Marius laughed.

“Oh, where is your lady friend?” 

Marius blushed at the question. “I’m actually travelling with my Grandfather…”

“Oh that stick in the mud?” Maggie asked. Marius couldn’t help but smile. 

“Yes, he’s taking to his own personal matters at the moment, but otherwise, sad to say, there is no lady friend to call upon.” Marius said, suddenly thinking back to the mystery girl he still wished to speak with. 

“So, to be blunt, you’re sitting here all by yourself?!” Mrs. Brown asked, looking dejected. 

“Oh, no need to alarm or upset yourself, Mrs. Brown! I’m perfectly content here….” 

“The hell you are! Come along!” She said before motioning for Marius to stand up and walk with her. “I won’t hear of it! You’ll dine at our table! And it’s one of the bigger ones, so you can’t possibly plan to run away without being seen!” She linked her arm with Marius’s. 

They casually walked into the middle of the Saloon.

“Howdy, everybody! I brought along new meat!” Maggie said as she brought Marius to one of the larger tables. 

“Everyone, this devilishly handsome young man goes by the name of Marius Pontmercy. He’s attended quite a few of my charity events, and is one of my favorite attendees!” Maggie said, causing the young man to blush. 

“Glad to have you join us!” Colonel Astor said, standing up to offer his hand. “The pleasure is likewise, Colonel!” Marius shook Mr. Astor’s hand. 

“And over here, we have this adorable young couple straight out of Canada, Mr. and Mrs. Allison. Mr. and Mrs. Carter of Philadelphia…” 

“Over here are two of the men of the hour themselves, Thomas Andrews, the lad who designed every nook and cranny aboard this boat, and Mr. Ismay, President of the Line himself.”

“And last but not least, we have Mr. Fauchelevant and his lovely daughter, Cosette.” 

 

When their eyes met, both of their hearts jumped. Of course she would be at this table, where surrounded by the rich and famous, he couldn’t single her out just to talk to her alone. But he could at least make an impression for her by engaging with everyone else.

“It’s lovely to meet you all.” Marius said as he had sat down in his seat between Maggie and Mr. Allison.

“Forgive my curiosity, Mr. Pontmercy, but am I correct in hearing that you’ve attended several charity events?” Cosette asked, sitting up at the table.

Oh gosh…she’s singled him out first. “Okay…breathe, Marius. You’ve talked to girls before! It’s just polite conversation, that’s all!” He thought to himself. 

“You heard, correct, Miss Fauchelevant. It started a few years ago. I was spending my Summer in New York back in 1899. I was ten years old at the time. My family and I were talking a stroll down in Brooklyn, where we became witnesses to the start of that famous Newsies Strike.”

“The one that challenged Joe Pulitzer, the newspaper tycoon?” Mr. Allison asked. 

“Yes. Anyway, I was only ten, but the event sort of stuck with me since then. When I was older, I did some research on the strike, and it just moved me. I realized that I wanted to help make change for the children of lesser privilege than me. And that’s where I’ve met the great Mrs. Brown. She was hosting a charity event, and sort of just drew me in. And after that, we came to be good friends!” 

Cosette could not hide her smile. This man was so down to Earth, she felt speechless. Valjean could see it in her eyes. He chuckled to himself.

“That’s very commendable, Mister Pontmercy.” Andrews said. 

“Here, here!” Carter replied.

“So, Mr. Andrews, I understand you designed this ship?” Marius asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say…”

“Oh come on, Tommy! No need to be modest!” Ismay chimed in, twirling his mustache. “We have here, the largest, most luxurious, moveable man-made structure since the beginning of time. She’s passed her trials without any complications. She’s…she’s perfect.”

“Practically unsinkable!” Maggie added, raising her glass.

Andrews hesitated a moment before raising his glass too. Marius and Cosette both noticed it. 

 

11:20 AM  
THURSDAY, APRIL 11th, 1912  
QUEENSTOWN, IRELAND

“They’re loading the tenders now, everyone! Hurry up!” Thenadier said to his family. 

Eponine, Azelma and Gavroche each grabbed their bags and followed their parents to the queue for boarding. 

They were among the last to board the tender Amerika. Not five minutes later, the whistle blew, and the tender started inching away from the docks. 

Eponine and her siblings shuffled through the crowded deck so they could reach the bow to get a better look. 

She kept a firm hold on Gavroche to prevent him from leaning out too far and falling overboard.

“Look! There it is!” he cried out. 

Eponine and Azelma were both shocked for words.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph!” Azelma blurted out. “It looks long enough so you could walk to America!” 

Eponine nodded in reply. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Over here, gentlemen! The tender’s approaching!” Courfeyrac called out to his friends.

Combeferre and Enjolras walked over with them, now considered a part of the group.

“You think there will be plenty of pretty girls?” Courfeyrac asked. 

“Oh give over, Henri!” Enjolras said. “Even if there were, we wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near them. They have gates at every section that divides between Steerage and Second Class, and between Second Class and First.” 

Combeferre adjusted his glasses. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Eponine found that her sister and brother had returned to their parents. She proceeded to walk back as well, when something inside her implored her to take one more look up at the ship before they boarded. 

Her heart stopped when she did.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Combeferre readjusted his glasses, thinking perhaps his eyes were mistaken. But sure enough, the beauty with long black hair and glistening black eyes was staring right back at him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Eponine! Come on! They’re lowering the gang plank!” Azelma called out to her.

Eponine tried to pull away from her sight, but as he continued to stare back at her, it made it difficult for her to turn away.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Eponine…?” Combeferre whispered to himself.

“Did you say something?” Julien asked. 

“Oh…no... I’m sorry. I was just preoccupied.” Combeferre said. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Are quite positive that it was him, Eponine Thenadier?” Azelma asked as they were standing in line walking up the gangplank.

“There was no mistaking it, Azelma. It was definitely Frank. Lord help me, how long has it been?” Eponine asked herself. 

“And he still remembers you?” 

“I’m sure he must’ve. His gaze never left me.” 

 

“Well, I’m not surprised. You are a real Irish beauty you know!” Azelma said playfully.

“Oh come, now! We just went to the same school when we were children. Then he moved to England, and I stayed here…I just can’t believe…after all this time…”

“You should try and find him! I’m sure the two of you would have a lot of catching up to do!” 

“I couldn’t do that! It would appear too forward like!” Eponine waved off.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Are you quite positive it was her?” Enjolras asked, while he, Combeferre and the rest of the men were walking around in circles on the Second Class Promenade.

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt. I’d recognize that face anywhere. I just can’t believe, out of all the ships in the world, she steps onto the same one as me.”

“Maybe it’s fate?” Courfeyrac suggested, half-seriously.

“Very funny, Henri. She’s way too beautiful and smart to be seen with someone like me.” Combeferre said. 

“Now that’s rather defeatist of you, wouldn’t you say?” Enjolras asked. 

“No. I’m being realistic.” 

“Well, rather than let yourself down before anything has happened, why don’t you go and talk to her?” Prouvaire asked. 

“Are you joking? The stewards will probably try and shoo us away. I wouldn’t stand a chance to even do that.” 

Enjolras stood there for a moment and said “There’s no written law that says people of different classes can’t talk to each other. Even if there is a gate separating them.” 

Combeferre looked at his friend incredulously. 

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to seek adventure. Maybe this is your calling!” Enjolras said defensively. 

 

 

2:30 PM  
RMS Titanic  
Atlantic Ocean

The ship had left Queenstown an hour ago. Feuilly stood at the Stern section of the ship, or Poop Deck. He was leaning against the railing by the flagpole, keeping his eyes on the horizon of Ireland slowly shrinking away into obscurity. 

“Will you miss it then?” a voice called out. 

Feuilly turned around to see a young and pretty girl, maybe about his age, walk up to him.

“What, Ireland?” Feuilly asked. The girl nodded. “Oh, no I don’t come from Ireland. I lived in Cornwall the better part of my life. What about you?”

The girl sighed and leaned against the railing next to him. “I’ll miss the Irish green mountains, tis true. But green mountains don’t grant you freedom to be whatever you choose to be.” 

Feuilly nodded in agreement. “Do you have plans for when you get to America?” 

The girl pondered on that question. “I don’t know. I’d have so many different choices; I wouldn’t know where to start. I could be a house maid…I could be a school teacher, or a reporter. I don’t know.” 

“What about a seamstress?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry?” The girl asked, confused. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your scarf. I’ve lived my life around home made things. I used to make fans and sell them. Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe your scarf was handmade, by someone close?” 

The girl blushed. “I sewed it myself. Tis a hobby I do enjoy very well.”

“Part of me could tell. From the way it looks, it looks as if it has been made with a gentle touch…tender care.” Feuilly said, looking closely at the scarf.

The girl felt warm in the face. “You’re a very observant person there I might say.” 

Feuilly smiled. “It’s easier when nobody knows who you are. You can observe others so carefully you won’t even notice your own loneliness.” 

“Oh…you’re travelling by yourself?” she asked with a slightly sad voice.

“Yes. Both of my parents are dead, so I’m searching for a new life on my own.” 

She turned to face him. “Does it hurt? To talk about them, or to feel so lonely?” 

“Sometimes, it hurts terribly.” He confided. “That’s why I like to observe people so much. It helps to distract me.” 

“Well…if you ask me, I personally think that’s horrible. From what I’ve experienced, observing people from a distance is just another way of isolating one’s self.” The girl said. 

Feuilly looked at her. “That’s funny. I never thought of it that way.” 

The girl then tugged on his arm. “Follow me! They’re playing games and music down in the General Room. I think you’ll enjoy it!” 

Feuilly pondered on the idea, then nodded his head and said “Okay.”

And as they walked back towards the Poop Deck stairs, he asked “By the way, what’s your name?” 

The girl smiled at him and said “Azelma Thenadier.” 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Ah, yes. There is a Miss Eponine Thenadier aboard. Third Class, Cabin E-34.” Said the Second Class Purser as he was reading from his passenger manifest. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

“No, that will be all! Thank you very much for your services!” Courfeyrac said.

“Very good sir.” The purser responded. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*##*#

Feuilly had found himself having the time of his life. In the General Room, the Passengers from all different walks of life were socializing, playing games, dancing to music played with instruments they brought with them from home and singing.

Eponine was sitting on one of the benches with her parents.

“This Polish kid seems to be enjoying himself with Azelma. Should we be worried?” Mrs. Thenadier asked.

“The kid’s too shy. You saw how he acted at lunch today. She knows what she’s doing.” Mr. Thenadier said, reassuring his wife.

Gavroche entered the room and ran over to Eponine and whispered in her ear, beckoning her to follow him outside. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The two of them were walking out to the well deck, lit by the orange filled sky as the sun was beginning to set. 

“Why are we meeting out here?” Eponine asked her little brother.

“Bloody hell if I know. Ask him! He’s the Frenchie that sent for you.” Gavroche answered, pointing at Courfeyrac, who was standing at the Deck just above them. 

“Ah, you must be the young woman Eponine that we’ve heard so much about.” Courfeyrac said.

Eponine felt really confused. “I’m sorry, sir. But do I know you?” 

Courfeyrac held up his hands in apologies “No, but my friend knows you!” 

“Friend?” Eponine asked. 

Just then, behind Courfeyrac, the door to the Second Class Stairwell opened.

“Henri, Julien had told me that you took my journal from my cabin. That is personal property, I insist that you return it…” Combeferre’s words were cut short. As he walked towards Courfeyrac, he stopped in his tracks. 

There she was. 

“Ah, I believe you two know each other. Isn’t this quite a small world? Who would’ve ever thought! What a coincidence that the two of you came out at the same time. Well, I’ll be going. I’m sure you have much catching up to do!” Courfeyrac said. 

Gavroche approached the railing. Courfeyrac bent down and slipped him a 10-pound note. “Keep that for the currency exchange place in New York!” he whispered.

“Thanks, governor!” Gavroche said before running off.

Courfeyrac then just walked away without even addressing the other two. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#  
“That dirty little schemer…he’s planned this!” Combeferre laughed.

Eponine returned the smile. “And somehow managed to involve my little brother.” 

The two of them laughed together. Then after a moment of silence, Combeferre finally spoke up. “I can’t believe it. Eponine Katie Thenadier. After all this time.” 

“I should say the same about you. I can’t believe it’s been five years.” Eponine responded. 

Combeferre felt a blush forming in his cheeks. “Me? Oh, come now. I’m not easily memorable. I’m surprised you even knew who I was.” 

“Oh give over!” Eponine said, pointing her finger at him. “I could never forget you, Franklin Combeferre! Not after all the help you gave me while we were in school together. You were the smartest one there.”

“I suppose.” Combeferre said, modestly. “But that’s why I always felt you would never really notice me.” Eponine’s smile lowered an inch before Combeferre continued. “You were the prettiest girl in our school. I’m surprised you permitted me to talk to you as much as I did.” He adjusted his glasses.

Eponine’s heart skipped a beat. “You thought I was pretty?” 

Combeferre placed his hands on the railing to keep them occupied. “I do.” 

Eponine turned away so she could hide her blush. “Then if we’re being rather honest with each other, I’d suppose I have to admit, I always thought you to be a rather cute bespectacled schoolboy. And now…look at you. Still bespectacled.” 

The two of them laughed. Courfeyrac and Enjolras peeked their heads from around the corner. By now, Combeferre had completely forgotten his journal. 

“I can’t believe it.” Enjolras whispered. “It actually worked!” 

“Never underestimate the expertise of Courfeyrac the Courter.” Henri replied. The two of them left. 

“So…where are you headed for?” Combeferre asked. 

“Who knows? My family and I just…wanted to get away from Ireland.” Eponine admitted. “Too much political unrest.” 

Combeferre nodded. “It’s a shame…I feel terribly guilty.” 

“Why?” Eponine asked.

“Because after school I’ve lived in England, and I’ve adapted into their ways…I feel rather awful about the conflict between our two countries.” 

Eponine smiled and shook her head. “That couldn’t ever change us.” Combeferre looked at her. 

“You could’ve been the King’s closest grandson for all I cared. It wouldn’t change anything between us.” 

Combeferre returned the smile. Then he looked at the gated staircase that led to the Aft Well Deck she was standing on. “Devil curse these regulations. It doesn’t feel right me standing up here, and you down there.” 

Eponine shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see any stewards or officers around to interfere.” 

Combeferre looked at her dumbfounded. “Come down!” she said.

He laughed “Eponine I always knew you to be the adventurous one out of all of our classmates, but think of the consequences if I were caught!” 

Eponine smiled at him. “I am. That’s why I like it.” 

Combeferre suddenly felt his heart racing. Maybe this is what he was hoping for when he craved excitement; the possibility of getting caught.

“Very well.” He said before silently hopping over the gate and walking down the stairs. 

Eponine reached into her coat pocket. “Here, put this cap on.” She said. And then she undid his tie, taking it off and putting it in his coat pocket. And before he could say anything, she took his combed hair and tussled it up, making it look as messy as possible, before placing the cap on his head. 

“There! No one will know the difference.” She said. 

 

 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Enjolras and Courfeyrac returned to the Promenade Deck to see their friend gone. 

“Huh…what happened?” Enjolras asked.

“You don’t think one of them spoke out of line, do you?” Courfeyrac asked. 

The two of them approached the railing and were immediately dumbfounded. 

“Is that…?” Enjolras asked, pointing to the young man with the glasses and the cap on his head. 

“That is something even I didn’t think would happen.” Courfeyrac admitted, as he watched the young man and woman below, enter the General Room. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Combeferre was chatting up a storm with some of the Steerage passengers that he was introduced to by Eponine. Some of them included the Goldsmith family that Theobold mentioned, Wennerstrom’s friends, Mr. and Mrs. Edvard Lindell of Sweden, and Jim Farrell and Martin Gallagher. 

“So you mean to tell me, that someone has built a device, so that you can jump out of one of those fancy aeroplanes?” Mr. Goldsmith asked. 

“Correct. They’re a new device called parachutes that you can attach to yourself. In the event of an emergency, the pilot can grab a hold of his parachute, jump out of the plane, and the parachute will open up at the pull of a string on the knapsack.” Combeferre explained. 

“Bloody incredible!” Said Gallagher. 

Eponine and Azelma were huddled in a corner looking at the large group in front of them. 

“You were right. He is quite handsome!” Azelma said, giggling to Eponine. 

“And what of your Polish friend?” Eponine smiled, pointing towards Feuilly. “You know he has not taken his eyes off you the whole time!” 

Azelma shoved her sister on the arm. “You’re one to talk. Every time Frank doesn’t talk, he has his eye on you when you’re not looking!” 

Eponine took a quick glance at Combeferre, who suddenly turned his head away. 

“Ah…I knew it!” Azelma said victoriously.   
“There’s nothing going on! We just haven’t seen each other in years, of course we’d look at each other.” 

“Aye, tis true, Eponine Thenadier, but friends don’t blush when they look at other friends!” Azelma responded. 

Eponine couldn’t believe her own ears. She would’ve never considered the idea of herself with a man like Franklin Combferre. 

“It wouldn’t work between the two of us, Azelma. He’s a real gentleman. He’s kind, loving, has patience the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. He puts everyone else before himself. He would never involve himself with someone like me.” 

Azelma shook her head. “You’ll never know unless you try. Just talk to him. You were brave enough to invite him over here, weren’t you?” 

Eponine looked at her. “Fine. We’ll compromise. I’ll consider talking to Franklin, if you consider talking to Feuilly. You two have a better chance of better conversations. He’s in Second Class. I’m not even sure if I’ll ever get the chance to see him again.” 

Her heart sank after she heard herself say that last sentence. 

Combeferre approached her. “Is everything alright, Eponine?” 

“I’m fine. I’m just a little…seasick.” Eponine lied.

He nodded in response. “It’s just as well, I need to head back.” She tried not to hide disappointment in her face. “Wouldn’t want to have you caught!” She joked. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Since it was later at night, there were hardly any passengers or crew to observe Combeferre as he climbed back over the railing. 

“I had quite a lot of fun tonight.” Combeferre said, as he turned back to Eponine. 

“So did I.” Eponine replied. 

Combeferre couldn’t help but notice her sad expression. “Are you sure everything is alright? I’ve been around enough people who are prone to seasickness, and you don’t appear to have any of the symptoms.” 

“Really, Franklin I’m fine. I promise. Well…it was great to catch up. Enjoy the rest of your voyage. Goodnight.” Eponine said, before hustling away from the stairs and returning to the General Room.

When she closed the door, she hugged the nearest corner wall she could find, frightened by the newfound feeling she was experiencing within her body.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Combeferre walked down the hallway, took out his key, and inserted it into the keyhole as quietly as he could. 

But when he opened the front door, he saw Enjolras and Courfeyrac standing there, staring at him.

Combeferre sighed. “None of it wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t trick me, Henri.” 

Courfeyrac held up his hands in defense. “Neither of us had expected that you would actually hop over the fence, literally, and run off with her.” 

“Okay. First of all, Enjolras, you were involved in this?!” Combeferre asked.

“I had no part in executing the plan, I just thought it would’ve been a nice gesture to have the two of you catch up.” Enjolras said.

Combeferre rolled his eyes. “And secondly, Henri, nothing happened between us. She invited me over to the Steerage Common area, and I got to meet her friends and family. Besides…she wouldn’t ever be interested in a man like me, we’ve discussed this!” 

“Look.” Enjolras said, holding up his hand. “We understand. We stepped out of line. What you do, or what you don’t do, is your own affair. We had no right to instigate anything. We just want to be sure that you’re in the right state of mind. I’ve seen how you looked today in the library.” 

“What are you talking about, James?” Combeferre asked. 

“You kept staring into space today, when we were supposed to go over our paperwork for Boston.” Enjolras said. 

“Oh…”

“Precisely. Anyway, my point is, whatever happens, happens. I just want to be sure that whatever you decide to do, it will be what makes you happy.” 

Combeferre took off his coat and undid his suit jacket. “I appreciate the concern from both of you. But rest assured, that there is nothing to do or to decide about. What happened tonight, was simply a night of simple enjoyment. We enjoyed catching up, enjoyed each other’s company, and neither of us could ask for more. Obviously, I’ll never be able to make the two of you eat your hats…”

“Maybe not. We could always begin the first course on your hat.” Courfeyrac said, with a smirk on his face.

Combeferre felt the top of his head, and realized he was still wearing Eponine’s cap. “Bollocks!”   
He muttered. 

“Hey, this gives you a legitimate chance of seeing her again!” Courfeyrac laughed. 

Enjolras made no attempt at hiding his smile.


	4. APRIL 12th, 1912

10:05 AM  
FRIDAY, APRIL 12th, 1912  
RMS Titanic, Atlantic Ocean

Marius sat down in the Reading and Writing Room, nearby the First Class Lounge. He took his spare time to write out his frustrations and anger, rather than to lash out at his Grandfather once more. 

It was when his hand started to hurt when he noticed Gillenormand enter the room. Marius knew this talk would happen. 

The old man approached Marius’s table. The young man got up and helped his Grandfather to his seat. 

“I have not seen you at all, yesterday.” Gillenormand said. 

“I’m afraid that was the doing of Mrs. Brown, of Denver. She’s dragged me along, having conversations with everyone she ran into.” Marius admitted.

“Yes. I know. That’s why I wanted to speak with you.” 

Marius’s chest began to tighten, when his Grandfather spoke. 

“I’m afraid I must admit…that I really am proud of you for the way you’ve handled yourself at dinner Wednesday night.” 

“How did you know…”

“Mrs. Brown and I had a discussion this morning at breakfast.” 

Marius felt like he was ready to pass out from the anxiety. “Marius.” The old man continued. “I know I am far from your favorite person. I know I am not anyone’s favorite person. But Mrs. Brown made me realize, that I haven’t been totally fair with you.” 

Marius was prepared for anything but this. “I also have not been completely honest with you either. Marius, the reason Mr. Kerrington and I had arranged for you and his daughter to wed, is for financial security.” 

“Oh…I see. How bad is their situation?” Marius asked. 

“The situation isn’t theirs, Marius. It is ours.” 

Gillenormand had expected Marius to grow angry and demand an explanation. But his grandson remained calm and collective.  
“We have acquired a handful of debts. Debts that consumed the better part of the family fortune. Once the debts were settled, this family found itself in a bad situation. I didn’t tell you about it, thinking the problem would resolve itself. But it got worse. When Mr. Kerrington heard of the news, he offered a financial loan. I couldn’t accept it, because I wouldn’t be sure how we could ever pay him back…” 

Marius nodded “So in order to save your own skin, you decided to have me marry into their family for money.”

“It was to save your skin, Marius. I’m an old man. I don’t have much longer to go. Mr. Kerrington and I had arranged this marriage for the sake of your financial security. I’m not worried about myself.” 

“How could you say that, Grandfather? Your security is just as important…”

“I’m dying…Marius.” Gillenormand said bluntly.

His grandson’s eyes widened. “The tumor came back…didn’t it?” 

“That’s why I insisted that you be married, Marius. I had to know that you would be secure in your future.” 

Marius sank back into his chair. “I’m sorry, Grandfather…I did not know…”

“It was my own fault, Marius. I’ve kept to myself all this time…and I’ve only made you angry…can you ever forgive me?” 

Marius took a hold of his Grandfather’s hand. “Of course. If it will help put you at ease, I will go through with the wedding with no resistance. I can’t promise that I will be happy about it, but I will do it for you.” 

For the first time in years, Gillenormand smiled at his grandson.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Marius was leaning back on a deck chair on the Promenade Deck. He kept his eyes closed for the longest time. 

He heard the deck chair next to him shuffle, and he opened his eyes and saw her…

Cosette had approached him…and took a seat next to him…at a really bad time.

“Oh…I’m sorry! I didn’t know if you were sleeping!”  
“No harm done! Please!” He said, offering for her to stay in her seat. “It works out well anyway; we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Marius.” He said, offering his hand.

“Cosette.” She said, shaking his hand. 

“Where’s your father?” Marius asked.

“Oh, he’s in the Lounge talking with the Wideners from Pennsylvania. I opted to take some fresh air.” She answered. 

Marius nodded. “It’s a bit colder than it was yesterday, I must admit.” 

“Yes…” Cosette replied, rubbing her arms. 

A steward was walking past them. 

“Oh Steward? Would you be so kind as to get Miss Fauchelevant a blanket?” Marius asked. 

“Certainly, sir.” The steward said before turning around and walking the other way. 

“Oh you didn’t need to do that!” Cosette tried to protest.

“It’s no trouble at all.” Marius said, smiling.

Cosette started to blush. “So I hear that Mrs. Brown has made you her little cotillion yesterday.” 

“You heard right. She refused to have me spend the rest of the voyage sitting alone, so she had me on my feet all of yesterday. This is my first rest since!” Marius joked. “She’s a great person though. Her heart’s in the right place.” 

Cosette concealed her smile. “I’m glad she brought you to our table Wednesday night. Saved me quite a lot of trouble of making the first move.” 

Marius blushed. He looked at her eyes, and this time, couldn’t look away without being spotted. 

But then his chest started tightening again…and he knew why.

“Miss Fauchelevant…” He began

“Oh please! Call me Cosette!” she interrupted. 

“Very well…Cosette. I must confide in you. I’m not entirely sure if Mrs. Brown got to you first, or if she considered it her place to say anything, but I must tell you the truth before we go any further.” Marius took in a deep breath.

“I’m engaged to be married. But it is not by choice. Family obligations will hold me down to the very end. My Grandfather told me that he was terminally ill, and that he wanted to see me secure in a fine marriage before he was gone. That’s why we’re travelling to New York. I am personally opposed to the idea. I could care less if I hadn’t a penny to my name. I would prefer marrying for love. But it was arranged, and it will be on my Grandfather’s deathbed. As you can see, I’ve no way out. I apologize for being blunt about this, but I thought I’d have to tell you…before we got any further.” 

Cosette’s smile had vanished. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t hurt. She understood. 

“Marius…” she started. “I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your honesty. Not many men that have paid court to me would’ve been so honest with me. That’s what I’ve admired about you. You’re generous, and you’re kind. And I can completely understand the pain you must be going through.” 

Marius looked up at her. 

“I’ve seen plenty of arranged marriages. I’ve yet to see one where the couple is emotionally happy. So I know it is hard for you to go through right now.” 

The two of them smiled at each other. 

“Thank you for being so understanding…I wish the circumstances were different.” He said. She nodded in agreement. 

Gillenormand watched the whole thing from the window inside. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Bahorel and Grantaire had finished up their morning shifts, and returned to the Firemen’s Quarters. 

“Christ Almighty!” Grantaire muttered under his breath. “Four hours of back breaking sweat, four hours off, then all over again!” 

“Nobody ever said it were easy, Darcy Grantaire!” 

Grantaire responded by climbing up his bunk and throwing himself down on the bed. 

“Oi!” A voice shouted. “That’s me bunk! Go find your own!” another stoker approached Grantaire. 

“Does it have your name on it?” Grantaire said half-heartedly. “If not, then shove off!” 

The stoker responded by grabbing Grantaire’s shirt and pulling him back, sending him off the bed and onto the ground. 

“You better watch your step, you little weasel! You’d be messing with the wrong boys!” the stoker declared.

“Who are you calling a weasel?!” Grantaire said, standing up ready to challenge the stoker.

Bahorel got in between the two. “Take it easy, Collins. He’s my brother. He’s just breaking into the trade.”

As soon as Bahorel said brother, Collins immediately backed away. Bahorel may have been a kind man, but he was tough when he needed to be. And his reputation gave him a lot of respect amongst other stokers, greasers and trimmers alike. Sometimes, even Fred Barrett felt intimidated by him, 

“Is there another bunk he can use perhaps?” Bahorel asked. Collins pointed to one close by. 

“Alright, Darcy. Let’s go.” Bahorel said, pulling Grantaire along. 

“Four days sober and I’m already regretting it!” The latter said, before climbing up onto the bunk and closing his eyes. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Joly is laying down on the bottom bunk, while Julien is observing him from the couch. 

“Julien…the chamber pot!” Joly mumbled while clenching his stomach. 

“Complete poppycock, Joly. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Julien replied. 

Since they left Queenstown, Joly has become overwhelmed by seasickness; or as everyone around him says, he ‘thinks’ he has the seasickness. 

Julien is actually surprised his roommate allowed him anywhere near the cabin. Joly would normally have the cabin quarantined, leaving Julien without a room. 

There is a knock on the door. 

Julien went to open it. “If it’s any of the others, tell them to go away.” Joly whimpered.

Julien opened the door. It was a Stewardess. 

“Oh, I’m sorry sir. I didn’t know if you two had gone out, I’ve come to make the beds.” The young girl said. 

“Our humblest apologies; you wouldn’t have to worry about our cabin the rest of the voyage. My roommate ‘thinks’ he’s been struck down with the mal de mer.” 

The stewardess looked at him confused.

“I’ve got seasickness, miss.” Joly said whimpering.

Julien whispered to the Stewardess “I emphasize on him thinking he has it.” 

The Stewardess nodded in understanding. “Well, why don’t you help him get dressed, take him outside, and help him get some fresh air. It should help combat the nausea.” 

“Great idea. You hear that, Joly?” 

“Are you joking? If I stand up, I’ll die.” Joly mumbled.

“Oh now, there’s no room for foolishness! Come, come! Up we go!” The stewardess said, before coming in to help Joly sit up.

“This isn’t your concern, Miss…um…” Joly said.

“Musichetta. Clara Musichetta.” The stewardess answered.

“Miss Musichetta, this ailment of mine doesn’t concern you. Just leave me to my death bed!” 

Julien rolled his eyes. “We can both see right through it, Joly. You’re not going to die. Keep telling yourself that, and I’ll help you along the way!” 

Joly sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I get a blanket on the deck chair!” He demanded.

“That can be arranged, sir.” Clara said, as she helped Joly up on his feet.

“We’ll leave you to it, Joly. I’ll be outside waiting for you.” Julien said before walking out of the cabin.

As Julien and Clara closed the door behind him, he turned to her. “Remarkable. How did you do it?” 

“It’s a little talent of mine. I used to work as a Nanny, and if the children misbehave, I take over. And before you know it, they’re all perfect little angels.” 

“I can’t thank you enough. I suppose I owe you one.” Julien said. 

“It’s all part of the job.” Clara smiled. “Now, I must get back to my duties.” And then she hurried off to the next cabin.

Julien’s eyes never left her.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Combeferre stood on the Aft section of the Boat Deck. He was studying the layout of the lifeboats and the davits that held them. Something was nagging him in the mind that things weren’t right.

“I don’t think there is enough of them.” A voice said.

He turned around to see a middle-aged man approach him. “Pardon?” Combeferre asked.

“I’m a schoolteacher, and every so often I do mathematical calculations in my head.” He pointed to the row of four lifeboats they were standing next to. 

“There are four rows of four lifeboats all around this ship. We have eight of them towards the stern, and another eight towards the bow.” The man said, pointing towards the other end of the deck.   
“That’s sixteen in total. Each lifeboat carries a good sixty-five people. In addition, we have two emergency boats, and four collapsible boats. Altogether, that would be a good capacity of twelve-hundred people, more or less.” 

Combeferre listened with intent. “Why do you say there aren’t enough?”

“I have a friend who works with the purser. He’s told me that there are over twenty-two hundred on board. And only lifeboat compliments for half of that. It doesn’t feel right.” 

Combeferre adjusted his glasses and looked carefully at Lifeboat #16. “Why would they permit that?” 

The older man shrugged his shoulders. “Regulations from the Board of Trade. The ship complies with the minimum requirement…which I find to be balderdash!”

“I’d have to agree.” Combeferre nodded. “Why would they overlook such a crucial hazard?” 

“It would possibly upset the passengers. Plus, they need deck space to play shuffleboard.” The older man said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, when the Republic sank, only six were killed in the collision. Everyone else survived, because other ships were nearby, and so the survivors were ferried from the Republic to other vessels, well before she went down.”

“So…in theory…” Combeferre began. “In the unlikely event that this ship was to sink…”

“They would send a distress signal, other ships within the vicinity would come to her aid, and everyone would be ferried across to the other ships, and then the lifeboats would return to this ship, for the next load of passengers.” 

Combeferre couldn’t help the worried look on his face. “That seems rather risky.” 

“It is. I felt the need to express my concern over it, but then I keep thinking that it’s improbable for this ship to sink. She has a double-skin to combat any penetration from a collision. And the water-tight compartments will help control the amount of water they receive.”

The older man looked at Combeferre and put his hand on his shoulder. “My sincerest apologies. I saw you were examining the lifeboats and I spoke out of place. I didn’t mean to alarm you.” 

“No, on the contrary, I’m glad you’ve made me aware. I’m half determined to right a petition to White Star, and have them change the rules.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” The older man chuckled. “By the way, I’m Lawrence Beesley.”

“Franklin Combeferre.” The two shook hands. 

Just then, Courfeyrac and Prouvaire came out of the Second Class Entrance. 

“There you are!” Prouvaire said.

Combeferre excused himself from Mr. Beesley and approached his two friends. “For the love of God, Jean. Not you too!” 

“Henri has been bothering me all morning, asking where you are. I have no idea what he’s on about.” Prouvaire replied. 

“Frank, have you given back the cap yet?” Courfeyrac asked.

“Ugh…” Combeferre groaned. “No, I didn’t get the chance to. Why?” 

“I just wanted to be present when you did.” Courfeyrac smiled. 

“Jean, can you keep Henri occupied while I tend to a little errand?” Combeferre asked Prouvaire.

“Why of course!” Jean replied. Courfeyrac muttered under his breath “You’re evil, Frank!” 

Combeferre whispered back “Now we’re even.”

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Eponine was running around the deck playing tag with her sister, brother, Feuilly, Alfred, Frank Goldsmith Jr. and the eight Sage children. 

When it was Azelma’s turn, Eponine ran to the side of the Aft Well deck to hide. It was there she spotted Combeferre standing on the upper deck, with her cap in his hand. 

She was unaware of the huge grin that appeared on her face, when she ran over to him. 

“Hi…” she said quietly.

“Hello again.” He replied. 

“What are you doing here?” Eponine asked. 

“Sailing.” He answered sarcastically. She rolled her eyes. “I forgot to give this back to you.” He said waving her cap up, before tossing it back to her. 

“Oh…thanks.” Eponine said softly. 

“No problem. Didn’t want you to think you’ve misplaced it.” Combeferre smiled. 

Oh god…she thought there’s that smile again. I can’t believe I’ve forgotten that damn smile. He’s doing things to me with it…things I didn’t think could happen.

“‘Ponine?” Combeferre asked, snapping Eponine out of her thoughts. “I was asking you if you’ve ever decided where you were going to go when you reach New York?” 

“Oh…well…no not really…you?” 

“Well, my friend and I have that new office that’s opening up in Boston.” 

Eponine’s heart sank further. She knew that if she decided to stay in New York, she would never see him again.

“And I was curious about where you were headed, because if it wasn’t anywhere far from Boston, I would love to see you again…” 

At this point, Eponine’s heart has dropped then started beating faster back and forth up and down…why was she feeling this way?! 

“Would you…excuse me, Franklin? I’m feeling light-headed.”

Combeferre frowned. “Of course…was I too forward?” he asked, concerned.

“No…I just…I have to…” she couldn’t say another word, nor stay another minute. Her emotions would get the best of her otherwise.

She ran past the General Room, down the stairs, through the hallway, passing Feuilly and Azelma, and shoved the door open and hopped onto her bed, crying into her pillow.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Azelma told Feuilly she would talk to him later tonight. She followed where Eponine ran to, and found her bigger sister an emotional mess on her bed.

“Oh, sweet sister. What has he done to you?!” Azelma asked in an urgent tone.

“Nothing to make anybody be angry at him for.” Eponine said with her face buried in her pillow.

“What?” 

 

“Oh, God, Azelma. I’m trying so hard to forget about him. And yet every time I do, he always finds a way to make me melt. I’m trying to save myself the heartbreak I’d feel when we say goodbye in New York, and there’s just something about him…it’s driving me crazy. I want to forget about him, and yet he makes it impossible!” Eponine sobbed. 

Azelma looked surprised. “Eponine Katie Thenadier, are you in love with him?” 

Eponine shot up from her pillow. “Don’t you dare say that, Azelma! Take it back, now!” 

“I was just asking.” 

“But don’t! Because if you question it, then I’ll question it, and I know it’s not good because I know how he’ll react.”

Azelma groaned. “You still haven’t given him a chance! You never know what will happen unless you try. And…we did make a deal.” 

Eponine wiped away the tears from her eyes. “Deal?” 

“Remember when we agreed that if I went to talk to Feuilly, you would do the same for Franklin?”

Eponine nodded. 

“Well what did you think we were doing out there in the hallway? Talking of the weather?” 

Eponine gave out a small laugh. “Azelma, my little baby sister. Have you gotten a little friendly with Feuilly?” 

Azelma blushed. “I just went and told him that I thought he was quite handsome, and too good a man to be lonely. Next thing I knew, our lips just touched. Then of course, you came brushing past, spoiling the momentum.” She said.

“Oh Lordy, lord! I am so sorry!” 

“It’s fine. But now you owe me one!” Azelma said pointing her finger at Eponine. 

“I have a bad feeling about this...” the big sister replied.

“Now you HAVE to go and talk to Franklin. Not only because I held up my part of the bargain, but now, because you ruined our moment together.”

Eponine grabbed a hold of her blanket. “Oh, but Azelma, you’ve gotten more courage than I could ever hope for!”   
Azelma rolled her eyes. 

“Just promise me, that you’ll make an effort to talk to him at some point before the voyage is over?”

Eponine sighed and dropped back down to her pillow. “Fine. I’ll talk to him…” 

 

5:06 PM  
Second Class Library  
RMS Titanic

“And when I asked her if I was too forward, she didn’t even answer. She just up and ran off. I can honestly say, I don’t believe I will ever understand women.” Combeferre said, with his head on his arms as he sat at the table with Enjolras.

“So…in response to my question ‘would you prefer to share an office or to build a wall and a door in between?’ your answer is ‘dear God, I’m in love, Enjolras’?” 

Combeferre shot up from his slouched position. “What makes you think…”

“Oh come on, Frank. We’ve been through this since we left Queenstown. Just go back to the Promenade area, and the next time you see her, just tell her how you feel. I’m not sure I can stand the tension any longer.” 

“We know she would only just laugh at me. And why do you care so much if I had feelings for her?” 

“Because I can’t get any work done while you continue to play Romeo. So, in a nutshell, you owe me.” 

Combeferre scoffed. “I owe you, by me going up to the most beautiful girl ever and telling her how much I can’t stand the idea of never seeing her again?” 

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “No, you owe me by going up to the most beautiful girl ever, and telling her flat out that you’re in love with her.” 

Combeferre put his face in his hands, when a small figure approached the two of them. 

“Excuse me, governors. But is there a Mr. Franklin Combeferre I can speak with?” The little bellhop asked.

“That’s me. What can I do for…” Combeferre began, before doing a double take, and adjusting the bellhop’s hat, revealing more of the face. “Gavroche?!” He whispered.

“Shh!” Gavroche said, putting a finger to his mouth. “I have access to the laundry room from where I was. I’ve got a message for you.” 

“Ahem!” Enjolras cleared his throat. “This is a Library, young man. Perhaps it would do all three of us good if Mr. Combeferre just went with you.” 

Combeferre sheepishly followed the little boy out of the Library.

“You realize how much trouble you can get in if you were caught?” Combeferre whispered to Gavroche in the hallway.

“The one bellhop who’s uniform I’m wearing, has got two others to spare. He won’t miss this one at all! Now listen. My big sister wanted me to come up and find you, because I can be very sneaky. I can slip through the shadows of Dublin, and throw all of Scotland Yard into a state of confusion!”

“Go on.” Combeferre said, urging Gavroche to get to the point. 

“She said she wants to meet with you face to face.” 

“Oh…well then tell her to meet me…”

“Not at the usual place. She said she would feel better if she could talk to you somewhere more exclusive.” 

Combeferre looked at him carefully. 

“It’s not in the way you think. She just wants to talk to you in private, not out in the middle of a crowd that’s all.” Gavroche said, motioning for Combeferre to talk to him. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

The two of them ended up proceeding down to the Second Class Staircase, and going through a hallway or two, before ending up at Scotland Road.

“Come on! This way!” Gavroche said. 

Combeferre felt more and more nervous as he followed the little one down a set of stairs, through another hallway, and around a corner.

“Gavroche, whatever Courfeyrac or Eponine are paying you for your involvement, I will double it, if you take me back to my area when we’re done.” 

The fifteen-year-old shrugged his shoulders and said “Sounds good to me, Governor!” 

He then motioned for Combeferre to stop following him, then ran off to another corner. 

Combeferre’s palms were sweating, and his heart was racing by now. It was one thing to experience the thrill of possibly getting caught. It was another to be taken to a completely unfamiliar section of the ship, and get easily lost.

Finally, Combeferre looked up, and saw Eponine peek from around the corner. He adjusted himself, and pushed back his glasses, while she straightened out her hair and adjusted her waist coat and slowly walked towards him.

“I suppose I must start by apologizing.” Combeferre started, stumbling over his words.

“What for?” Eponine asked.

“When I asked about you going to Boston, I wasn’t sure if I was being too forward.”

Eponine took in a deep breath. “Franklin…you weren’t too forward at all. It was very sweet of you to consider meeting with me if I ever came to Boston.”

Combeferre put his hands in his coat pockets. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What I said wasn’t upsetting, and yet you still ran off, clearly upset.”

Eponine began fumbling with her hands and she hung her head low. “Franklin…where do we stand with each other?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…what do you think of me as a person?” 

Combeferre froze. It’s not like he felt he would get in trouble if he were honest, and yet he still felt cornered, no way to dodge this question. 

“Well…I think you’re a terrific person. You’re fun loving, kind, and energetic. It’s difficult to find that nowadays, especially in England…” 

“That’s not what I meant, Frank. I meant…do you like me?” 

Damn he thought she didn’t take the detour I was hoping for.

“Very well. I suppose I have no way out of this question.” He then took his hands out of his pockets. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, but I am absolutely crazy about you.” He said with a shaky voice. “I’ve been crazy about you since the day I met you in school. I was always too afraid to tell you how I felt…feel. I always thought you were too beautiful for the likes of me. And I asked about Boston, because I don’t think I would ever be able to function for the rest of my life, if I had any idea that I would never see you again…”

Combeferre’s rambling was suddenly interrupted, when Eponine wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him tenderly. 

Instead of pulling back out of shock, Combeferre’s instinct had him wrap his arms around her waist. 

The low humming of the engines that could be heard from down below, suddenly seemed to fade away…all signs of reality suddenly dissipating into obscurity…for nothing else in the world mattered, except these two people, in this very moment.

Azelma and Gavroche peeked their heads from around the corner, and they gave each other a high five. 

“Good work, bellboy!” Azelma whispered.

“By the time we reach New York I’ll have enough money to treat everyone to a Nickelodeon!” he said, from all of the bribe money he’s received so far. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Joly sat on his deck chair uncomfortably. “This is torture. You’re enjoying every minute of it!” he said, glaring menacingly at Julien.

“This is for your own good. You’ve been outside the better part of today, and you haven’t gotten seasick once.”

“Yes but now that I’ve been out in the open air, I could catch hypothermia from the cold!” 

Julien threw his hands up in the air. “There’s no winning with you!” 

“You’re deliberately trying to kill me!” Joly said struggling to get out of his chair.

“Well at least you’ve gotten over your imaginary seasickness…so I guess it’s progress.” 

As he was getting up from his deck chair, Clara approached them. “How is the patient?” she asked.

“Physically or mentally?” Julien asked. “Physically, he’s fine. Mentally is another story.”   
“Well, at least the bindings helped.” Clara smirked.

Joly continued to struggle until his blanket fell off of him, revealing bed sheets that tied him down to the chair. “This is pure violence!” he cried out.

Julien and Clara nodded and went to untie Joly. 

“I know it wasn’t easy, Mr. Rivera. But it had to be done so because otherwise, you would’ve been inside all day, and realistically, you would’ve felt much worse.” 

Julien patted him on the shoulder. “Look, if you catch hypothermia, I will order you soup every day until we arrive. But you need to snap out of this delusion that you’re susceptible to every disease known to man.”

Joly sighed. “I can’t help it. It’s a part of who I am.” 

“I know, but you can’t let it get in the way of enjoying yourself. We’re on the Titanic for Pete’s sake! You can’t spend the entire voyage inside your cabin. Just promise me, that even if you stay indoors, just don’t confine yourself in your cabin. Okay?” 

After much hesitation, Joly took a deep breath and said “Fine.” 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Combeferre walked Eponine to her door. “Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked her.

“We’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean. I won’t go very far.” She smiled. 

“Great. What time?” 

Eponine shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe not tomorrow, I promised Gavroche and Azelma that I would help them with their studies. How about Sunday?” 

“Sounds fantastic.” Combeferre said. “Will you be at the service?” 

“Are Steerage passengers allowed?” 

“I heard that everyone is welcome to the Sunday service. But if not, I could always see you afterwards, right?” 

Eponine nodded. “I look forward to it.” She giggled. 

Combeferre leaned in for a quick kiss. “Sunday it is.” 

Eponine responded by pulling him back in for a longer kiss, before the two parted ways. Gavroche was waiting nearby, ready to lead Combeferre back to Second Class.

Eponine entered her cabin and closed the door, leaning back against it…feeling like she’s in heaven. She didn’t even notice her mother sitting on the bottom bunk bed, knitting a sweater. 

“Well…someone’s enjoying herself.” Mrs. Thenadier said.

“Oh mother…he’s finally told me…after all these years…” Eponine admitted, her smile blooming. 

“Who’s told you what?” 

“That boy from school. Franklin Combeferre.” 

Mrs. Thenadier nearly dropped her sweater. “That English fellow? The one you’ve had a crush on?” 

Eponine nodded. “And the feeling is mutual.” She said, before sitting on the bed opposite her. 

“He’s told you he likes you too?” 

“Aye. I never would’ve thought it either…I always felt he would run away from me if I admitted my feelings for him.” 

Mrs. Thenadier scoffed. “If you enjoy being a daft one, I suppose.” 

“Hmm?” Eponine asked. 

“I would’ve thought it rather obvious how much he took a liking to you.” Mrs. Thenadier said. Eponine still looked confused.

Mrs. Thenadier got up and went to a little satchel in the corner behind the bunk bed. 

“These are for you.” She said, picking up a little packet of envelopes. “His instructions were very clear. He wrote these sometime before leaving for school. He told me that if the two of you were ever to meet again, and if he ever admitted to his feelings to you in person, I were to show you these letters he wrote for you.” 

Eponine felt a lump in her throat. She couldn’t get it around her head that not only did he like her from day one, but even her family knew before she did. 

“Why would he not want me to see the letters before-hand?” 

“Probably felt the way you did. Must’ve thought you would not be moved by them as much unless he told you in person.” 

Eponine climbed up onto her bed, and opened the first letter. She looked at the date. She remembered it as the very first day they met.

To the girl that sits two rows ahead of me and one column to the right,

I don’t know who you are, nor do you know who I am…but somehow…I feel the urge to just right out a small introduction of myself to you. I know I’ve only seen you for a minute before class started, but I just had to get my thoughts down, knowing I would never have the courage to actually speak to you. I’m sure you know by now how crushes work. They make us shy, they make us feel foolish or do silly things; therefore, this letter may seem rather cliché. Nonetheless I still felt the need to just write my thoughts out. It doesn’t matter to me if you have the opportunity to read this letter or not. But if you do, at least now you have some idea of my feelings.

Signed,

A fellow classmate of yours.

Eponine’s cheeks grew warm as she read the next letter.

To Eponine,

In spite of my penmanship, I cannot find the right words to express my happiness that we finally got to introduce ourselves to each other. I never thought this chance would come. I must admit, I felt like a fool when I talked…or rambled, rather. But it was worth every moment I got to spend getting to know you. Just that alone, had made my day so much brighter.

Sincerely,

Franklin Combeferre

Her eyes began to water, as she read the next one.

 

 

 

Dear Eponine,

I’m glad I had the chance to meet the rest of your family. I’ve never met sweeter people. Your little brother is quite a card. I’ve never laughed so much in my life. And Azelma is another category of humor. I felt as if I was a part of the family that night. This may seem rather forward, but part of me rather wishes I was. 

With my best regards,

Franklin.

A tear or two started to roll down her cheeks, and she didn’t even notice when she flipped to the final letter.

Dearest Eponine,

It pains me to write this letter…if there’s a smudge or two they’re actually tears of mine. I’m sure you’re aware by now, but I’m leaving Ireland. My father had passed away, and my mother is not doing so well either. So I’m moving to England. My hands will be tied, so I’m not entirely sure if I’ll ever get the chance to come back to Ireland so I can see you again. I’ve given your parents these letters with instructions never to show these letters to you unless by chance, I’ve seen you again, and if I’ve had the courage to confess my feelings for you. But in case I never see you again, I wanted to write it out, regardless if you read this or not. I am in love with you, Eponine Katie Thenadier. I fell in love as I got to know you better…and I am heartbroken because I can’t imagine a future without you in it. Even if by a miracle we can remain good friends. If we both ever get married to someone else in our lives…please remember that I will never forget you…even if my marriage will be a happy one. I wish you nothing but the absolute best in everything you set for yourself. These were the best years of my life. 

With all my heart,

Frank.

Eponine dropped her letters and held her mouth from sobbing so loudly. 

Mrs. Thenadier smiled as she continued knitting. “He’s certainly quite a catch.” 

A few minutes later, Mr. Thenadier opened the door. “Sorry loves. Am I interrupting something?” 

“That Combeferre kid’s finally admitted his feelings for her.” Mrs. Thenadier said, motioning to Eponine. 

Her father scoffed and said “Took bloody long enough. When’s the wedding?!”   
Eponine nearly poked her eye when she went to wipe the last of her tears. “You’re a daft man, Papa! We couldn’t ever get married!” 

“What’s wrong with the boy? Is he Protestant?” 

“Very funny.” Eponine said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t work. He’s moving to Boston. And I don’t know where we’re going to after New York!” 

“So?” Thenadier said, shrugging his shoulders. “Eponine Katie, do not tell me you are going to let your family interfere with your happiness!” 

Eponine and her mother looked at him. “Papa?” 

“You know how protective I am over you and Azelma. Any other boy, I wouldn’t give a second glance, because I wouldn’t believe that any boy would be good enough for my daughters. But this boy…he’s different. He’s almost too perfect to even be human!” her father said, chuckling. 

“But it is you that he chose. And obviously, you care for him too. I see nothing wrong with the idea of you two having a future together. If he’s going to Boston, I’ll make sure he reminds you to write to us wherever we go.” 

Eponine jumped down from her bed and hugged her father tight.

“Thank you, Papa!” She said, bursting with happiness. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Combeferre returned to his cabin. He had changed into his nightclothes and climbed into bed just as Enjolras was entering. 

“Got what you needed to done?” Combeferre asked.

“For the first time since the voyage, yes. You should spend more time with her. I can get all my paperwork done by then!”

Combeferre rolled his eyes.

“And you? I hope you finally had the guts to tell her.” 

“I did. And it went better than I thought.” He smiled, as he laid down in his bed. 

Enjolras approached him closer. “I’d imagine so. Unless that’s a rash caught from an immigrant getting through the health inspection.” 

Combeferre got up from his bed and approached the mirror. 

“Oh dear…” he said, blushing. “She seemed to be more expressive than I remembered.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and started taking his coat off as Combeferre returned to bed.


	5. APRIL 13th--EARLY APRIL 14th, 1912

12:30 PM  
SATURDAY, APRIL 13th, 1912  
RMS Titanic, Atlantic Ocean

Officer Javert reported on the bridge, ready to relieve Officer Boxhall. 

“We’re steering at course 255. Speed is steady at 20 knots.” Boxhall said, as he was leaving. 

Officer Lightoller entered the bridge as well. “There was a note on the bulletin board that said ‘binoculars’. Anyone know about it?” 

Javert answered. “I wrote it, sir. We’re short on binoculars.” 

“How did that happen?” 

“Good question. The lookouts can’t access their binoculars; the key to their case is missing. In the meantime, we’re holding fast by passing around two pairs.” 

“Mr. Boxhall, make out a requisition form. We’ll pick more glasses in New York.” 

“Aye-aye sir.” Boxhall saluted before leaving the bridge. 

“How in the world can the lookout’s key go missing?” Lightoller wondered.

“If I may make a suggestion, sir?” Javert asked. Lightoller nodded. “Last I heard, and this is just my speculation, but the last I heard was David Blair was the one who kept inventory.” 

“And…?” Lightoller prodded. 

“And since Chief Officer Wilde was transferred to Titanic, all other senior officers were bumped down one…”

“Don’t remind me…” Lightoller said, thinking of his demotion from First Officer.

“My point is…David Blair was laid off for this voyage. And since he was in charge of equipment inventory, perhaps he has some idea as to the location of the Crow’s nest key.” 

“Hmm…it sounds logical. I’ll send a wireless to Liverpool to question Blair about it. In the meantime, the Lookouts will have to simply make do with their own eyes.” 

“Aye-aye, sir.” Javert saluted. 

 

1:17 PM  
First Class Smoking Room

Gillenormand was sitting in a lounge chair, sipping a glass of sherry. He was sitting deep in thought when Valjean had entered the room. 

“Ah, Lord Gillenormand. A pleasure it is to find you here.” Valjean said, offering his hand.

Gillenormand shook it firmly. “Likewise. Care to join me?” 

“I’d be honored.” Valjean said before taking a seat across from Gillenormand. 

“I was rather hoping to find you.” 

“Oh?” Gillenormand asked. 

“Yes…it appears that your grandson and my daughter have become very good acquaintances.”

“So I’ve seen…Marius certainly seemed much happier these past few days.” 

“As did Cosette. As a matter of fact, she can’t seem to stop talking about him. I feel that she really has taken a liking to him.”

Gillenormand shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Let me buy you a drink?” 

“No thank you. I’ll be headed down to the Café Parisian soon.”

“Very well…Mr. Fauchelevant. Before we discuss anything further, I have to ask. Has your daughter made you aware that my grandson is…?”

“…engaged?” Valjean finished. “Yes she has. She’s also told me that it is an arrangement, one that Marius isn’t too fond of.” 

Gillenormand sighed. “I overheard them yesterday. I assume then that she has told you why he’s engaged?” 

Valjean nodded somberly. “I do sympathize for the tragic news. It must be hard on everyone in the family.” 

Gillenormand shook his head. “Everyone else in the family is either dead, or have cut themselves from our lives. Marius is all that I have.”

“I understand. And Cosette understands too. Yet she is perfectly content with the friendship she’s developed with your Marius; even though that’s all they can be.”  
Gillenormand leaned in a little closer, and brought his voice lower. “I must ask you in complete confidentiality, Mr. Fauchelevant. What does your daughter think of my grandson?”

Valjean shrugged his shoulders. “Judging by her recent behavior, and how he tends to leave her speechless, and with how she looks at herself sadly in the mirror, I’d say she’s grown quite fond of the boy. Between you and me, she may seem like she understands the arrangement, but I can see the sadness in her eyes. Forgive me for being personal…I must confess it isn’t like me to talk this way about her. She’s my world, and I want only the best for her.”

“On the contrary…” Gillenormand said. “It proved to be most helpful.” He took his cane to steady himself as he stood up. Valjean rose to his feet to help him. “I’m alright. I may be dying but my legs aren’t, yet!” 

Valjean smiled sadly as the old man walked towards the door. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Fauchelevant…I have some matters to attend to.”

 

3:39 PM  
Third Class Staircase

Feuilly and Azelma were sitting on the staircase to the General Room. 

“Are your eyes closed?” Feuilly asked her. Azelma nodded. 

She felt him grab her hand and place something in it. “Okay, open your eyes.” He said.

She did, and was immediately awestruck. “You’ve made me a fan?” she squealed.

Feuilly nodded. “You like it?” 

Azelma couldn’t help but hug him tightly. “Oh I love it! How long did this take you?!” 

“The better part of last night.” He smiled. 

Eponine watched from a distance. She couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach that her little baby sister had grown up, and found someone. 

 

 

 

4:37 PM  
Second Class Lounge

Clara was picking up the used cups and plates from one of the tables. She saw Julien approach her.

“Bad time?” He asked her.

“No. Things are rather slow at the moment, so I’m trying to occupy myself until supper is served.” She explained. 

“Ah, I see.” Julien said, before clasping his hands together. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt, but I just wanted to thank you personally for your help and your devotion to my ‘patient’.” 

Clara smiled “It was a pleasure, Monsieur Lesgles. I hope I was helpful.” 

Julien nodded. “Surprisingly, he hasn’t complained at all this morning. I just want to say you’re a miracle worker.” 

The stewardess giggled. “It’s bad manners to have a stewardess blush while she’s on duty!” 

Julien smirked. “Well, when are you off-duty?” 

“Monsieur Julien Lesgles, that sort of behavior isn’t permitted on this ship!” Clara protested, in spite of her smile. 

“Fine. You win. This time around.” He said, winking at her. 

Clara scoffed and returned to her work. Julien’s smile never left as he walked away. 

 

 

 

 

 

6:59 PM  
Boiler Room #6

Darcy Grantaire climbed down the ladder and walked directly to his wheelbarrow to begin loading it with coal. 

“Oi, Grantaire!” a voice called out. 

Grantaire sighed, bracing himself for whatever trouble lay ahead of him. He turned to see the man named Collins approach him. 

“Listen…before we say or do anything that’ll get us both in the brig…I came to the realization that us picking a fight isn’t going to make the voyage go faster. So…if it’s alright with you, I’d like to start over.” 

Grantaire looked him over. “Does working down here get on everyone’s nerves?” 

“Aye. It can get very tense down here. So why bother taking it out on each other? Besides, I really can’t afford my pay forfeited.” 

Grantaire nodded. “No argument here. Darcy’s the name.” He said, patting Collins on the arm.

“Sam Collins.” The stoker said. “I better get back to my boiler over here before Barret’s breathing down my back!” 

“Aye.” Grantaire said, before returning to shovel coal into his wheelbarrow.

When he had a full load, he wheeled it over to Bahorel’s furnace. 

“Good call, Darcy.” Bahorel said, motioning to Sam.

“Is it just me…” Grantaire began. “Or are we working twice as hard as yesterday?”

“Aye. Orders from the Bridge. We’re making 78 revolutions to the screw! We’re pushing to 21 knots.” 

Grantaire looked at the dials, then shrugged his shoulders before going back to work. 

Sam continued to shovel the coal into his furnace, before something caught his attention. 

On the catwalk above, he could see a group of small boys looking down. He waved at them, and they waved back.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#  
“That was bloody brilliant!” Frank Jr. said excitedly, as he and the others were walking back up to Third Class.

“I can’t believe that one stoker waved to us instead of reporting us!” Feuilly said. 

“Probably too busy by the looks of it.” Alfred replied.

“Who cares?!” Gavroche said. “We got to see the boilers and didn’t get caught!” 

The other three nodded in agreement.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Gillenormand entered his room, ready for sleep. There was a knock on his door. Mabeuf went to answer it. 

“Telegram for Lord Gillenormand.” A steward said, offering the envelope to Mabeuf.

“Thank you.” The Valet said before closing the door. He opened up the telegram and handed it to Gillenormand. “From New York, M’lord.” 

“Thank you, Mabeuf.” The Lord said before examining the telegram. 

After reading it carefully, he sighed with relief.

“If it’s not too forward to ask, but has Master Marius been made aware of this new development?” 

Gillenormand shook his head. “Not yet. I will tell him Monday. Make no mistake, Mabeuf, I do think this is the right thing to do.”

Mabeuf nodded and then returned to his room. “I certainly hope so.” He muttered to himself.

 

 

 

 

8:32 AM  
SUNDAY, APRIL 14th, 1912  
Grand Staircase, A-Deck

Clara had led her group of Second Class Passengers from their promenade deck over to the Grand Staircase. They were permitted to join the First Class in worship at the Sunday Service held inside the First Class Dining Saloon. 

Courfeyrac and Prouvaire were awestruck by the sleek design of the interior. 

“When I make my fortune in America, I am going to design my house to have a staircase just like this!” Prouvaire said.

Courfeyrac scoffed. “I intend to do it the old fashioned way, and plan to abscond with some of these features when they sell her for scrap!” 

Joly was admiring the clock on the wall. “I can’t imagine the effort the wood carvers put in just for this alone. I must inquire about them and commemorate them!” 

Julien turned to his friend “Hey, if you get the chance, query Thomas Andrews, the builder. He’ll gladly appreciate the compliments!” 

“I wouldn’t hold out too much hope, boys.” Clara said in her authoritative tone. “After the service I am instructed to escort you back to Second Class.” 

The entire group of men groaned in disappointment. Combeferre was the only one who didn’t seem to object. His mind was on other matters…he would get to see Eponine again today, and he couldn’t wait.

The group had walked down to the Reception Room, and were at a loss for words.

“So, this is what First Class is like?” Prouvaire had said.

“If you ask me, I personally believe this should be made available to all people, regardless of class.” 

“I don’t believe it’s based on Class, more so Economically. Passengers book their tickets depending on their budget.” Combeferre reasoned.

“One, that still doesn’t make it right to reserve these niceties just for the rich and famous. Two, if it’s purely economical, why are the Third Class Passengers barred from everything else?”

“Immigration laws from the Yankees.” Clara had answered. “They don’t want to risk the spread of infectious diseases, if there are any.”   
“If that’s the case, then they don’t do very good jobs at the health inspection queues.” Joly commented. 

“The shipping companies can only do so much, Joly.” Julien replied. 

“I do have to agree with Enjolras.” Combeferre said. “If the classes have to be separated for health related concerns, then so be it. But I agree in the sense that all the benefits of First Class should be made available to all classes.” 

The rest of the group nodded in agreement as they entered the Saloon.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

The tables in the Saloon were removed and all of the chairs rearranged to form pews, to give the feeling of the inside of a church. 

Combeferre was handed a booklet as he entered the room. It contained the service’s songs and prayers. 

He followed the rest of his group to their seats, and looked around to see if he could find any Third Class Passengers. He wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t. Yet he was still disappointed. 

As the rest of the seats began to fill up, two members from the ship’s band had entered the room. One approached the piano while the other stood by ready to turn the music. 

Then all of a sudden, Captain Smith had entered the room and all of the passengers rose up to their feet. 

Marius observed Cosette who was a row ahead of him and to the left. She was standing with her father. Marius’s grandfather was nowhere to be seen. This wasn’t like him at all.

“May the lord bless us all, and keep us in safety and security. May he guide us to everlasting love and peace. May he calm the seas and the skies and grant us safe passage through his path to glory.” Smith began. 

“Amen.” The passengers responded. The service had begun.

 

 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

The service was somewhat different down in Third Class. The pastor spoke the prayers in Latin. 

Eponine held onto her rosary beads as she knelt down with all the other younger women. 

Part of her wishes she could concentrate, but the other part continues to grasp onto the beads, asking her for guidance for her future, and the possibilities that await her and Combeferre.

Feuilly was standing in the back, with Azelma’s arm linked in his. 

Mr. and Mrs. Thenadier looked at each other with content, as they could see how well their daughters were growing. 

The pastor continued to pray in Latin.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“And let those who find themselves set upon by the wrath of the storm, find peace as the Lord approaches them, and waves his Almighty hand, and quenches the strength of the waves, and cleanses the sky of all darkness, and restores everything to calm and still. Amen.” Smith concluded.

The passengers flipped open their booklets. “Let us sing.” Smith said.

The musician began playing the piano as everyone stood up.

“O Trinity of Love and Power, our brethren shield in danger’s hour.  
From rock and tempest, fire and foe, protect them wheresoe’er they go.  
That evermore shall rise to thee, glad praise from air and land and sea.

O Spirit, whom the Father sent to spread abroad the firmament.  
Oh wind of heaven, by Thy might save all who dare the eagle’s flight.  
And keep them by thy watchful care from every peril in the air.

Oh Christ, the Lord of hill and plain, O’er which our traffic runs amain.  
By mountain pass or valley low, wherever, Lord our brethren go,   
Protect them by Thy guarding hand from every peril on the land

Eternal Father strong to save whose arm has bound the restless wave,   
Who bids the mighty ocean deep its own appointed limits keep,   
O hear us when we cry to Thee for those in peril on the sea.”

Combeferre felt a chill run down his spine when he sang that last line.   
1:42 PM  
Bridge

Javert stood on watch with Officers Lowe and Moody. 

Wireless Operator Harold Bride entered the bridge. “Excuse me sir. Another ice warning. This one’s from the Baltic.” 

“Thank you Bride.” Javert said, taking the warning in his hands. He read the cable carefully.

“Greek steamer Athenia reports passing icebergs and large quantities of field ice today in latitude 41 * 51 ‘; longitude 49* 52’ W. Wish you and Titanic all success. Commander.”

Javert took the warning over to the chart house, and noted the coordinates. “Hmm…” he said to himself. “Not too far off of our course.” 

As he returned to the Bridge, he was met by Bride again, who looked as if he ran a marathon. “Sorry to disturb you again sir. This warning is from the Amerika. It arrived just now.” 

“Thank you.” Javert said. He returned to the chart house and examined the message.

“Amerika passed two large icebergs in 41* 27’N, 50* 8’W, on April 14.”

Javert compared the two most recent warnings. “They’re not very far apart.” 

His thought process was interrupted by Captain Smith who had entered the chart house, followed by J. Bruce Ismay, the White Star President.

“Mr. Javert. Anything important?” 

“Two ice warnings within minutes of each other. I’ve posted the coordinates. Neither of them are too far off from our plotted course.” 

“E.J. I must insist…” Ismay began.

“The Wireless Operators have been running back and forth from the Marconi room. I’ll have a steward stand by to deliver the messages to give them a rest.” 

“Aye-aye, sir.” Javert said, before returning to study the charts.

“E.J. my good man, when exactly do you suppose we will land in New York?” 

“Mr. Ismay, need I remind you we are still in waters that are dangerously surrounded by ice. I cannot risk the lives of my passengers so that this ship can make the front pages.” Smith said.

Ismay’s expression hardly changed. “The press has made enough stories about Titanic’s size to fill a library. We need to provide the papers with the latest juice on the Titanic’s speed. You said we are expected to arrive on Wednesday. Why not arrive Tuesday evening, and surprise everyone? Imagine the publicity we can obtain. We’ll attract more customers, and profits will be out of this world!”

“Mr. Ismay.” Smith said, more formally. “I have been made fully aware of your persistence in this matter. As a matter of fact, I was informed this morning, by the Chief Engineer, that you were spotted in the boiler rooms last night demanding that we light more boilers, and increase the speed to 22 ½ knots. I have been very patient with your interference, but I am afraid I must draw the line. We are pushing our limits as it is. I will not have you undermine my position just because this is my last voyage.” 

Javert kept his face over the charts, trying to evade the wrath of either man if he stepped in their way.

“Edward, perhaps you do not fully comprehend my position with this ship, giving your old age.” Ismay began. Smith’s face grew red. “But as the President of the White Star Line, and therefore, owner of this ship, I have the legal right to order the ship’s speed increased to however many knots I deem fit. Do I make myself clear?” 

Smith clenched his fists, before he muttered. “And yet you wonder why I am retiring for the sake of my health.”

“Mr. Javert.” Smith said. Javert stood up. “Maintain speed at 22 ½ knots. And…see if we can increase to 23 knots by tonight.” 

Javert stood there for a moment before saying “Aye-aye, sir.” Then he proceeded over to the mouth tubes, picked one up blew into it, and put his ear to the tube. 

“Yes sir?” the voice from the tube asked. 

“This is the Bridge. Increase propulsion to 82 revolutions.” 

“Aye-aye sir. Increasing to 82 revolutions.”

Captain Smith turned to Ismay. “I trust by now, our discussion here is finished?” 

Ismay twirled his mustache. “Precisely.” He said before leaving the chart house. 

Smith sighed in frustration. Javert finished posting the coordinates of the warnings before leaving for the door. 

“Mr. Javert?” Smith called out.

Javert turned around. “If you ever receive command of your own ship, make sure the owner of said ship stays ashore.” 

“Aye, sir. I will keep that in mind!” Javert smiled before saluting and exiting the room. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Eponine walked down the hallway with her friend who worked on the ship. 

“I cannot tell you just how much I appreciate this, Montparnasse.” She said quietly. 

“I hope you do. I could really lose me job for this you know!” The Steward replied. 

“I know. That’s why I appreciate more than you could know.” Eponine said. 

Montparnasse gave her a small salute, and then hurried off. Eponine clutched something in her hands and held onto it tight.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“But if the people of America have followed England’s footsteps in living in the Victorian Era, what’s so bad about them following in the footsteps of Women Suffragettes?” Cosette asked Marius as they were strolling down the Promenade Deck. 

“It completely baffles me that America hasn’t instigated the movement first. They have always been quick to petition governmental reforms. It’s how they were born.” Marius replied. 

“But why don’t they follow in our footsteps regardless?” Cosette asked again.

“What I meant was, America is always looking for a reason to fight. They’re…an eccentric breed. Easily agitated. Almost as bad as the Dagos.” 

“Hey, careful!” Cosette pointed a finger at Marius. “We’ve been invited to Gatti’s Restaurant tonight by the Wideners!” 

“My apologies.” Marius said. “My point is, because of America’s eagerness to fight, my prediction is that the Suffragette movements that occur there could grow out of hand and possibly twice as violent, as compared to that of England.” 

“Ah, now I see your point.” Cosette admitted. 

Their talk was interrupted by Mr. Ismay conversing with some other passengers.   
“It’s really nothing to worry about. This is simply a precautionary measure, to help us become more aware of what surrounds this ship. Another reason why Titanic is more advanced than any other ship in the world.” He said, holding an ice warning in his hands.

Cosette rolled her eyes. “I personally find him to be quite arrogant.” She whispered to Marius.

Marius nodded, as Cosette continued. “I mean…how on Earth is a man like him possibly permitted to be President of the White Star Line?” 

“It doesn’t take a Sherlock Holmes to deduce the reason. His daddy founded the company.” Cosette giggled. 

The two of them continued their walk, passing by Mr. and Mrs. Allison, and their infant children; 2-year old Lorraine, and baby Trevor, who was being held by their nanny Alice Cleaver.

Then they came across Thomas Andrews. “Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Andrews!” Marius greeted the Designer.

“Hello, you two!” He replied. 

“We never had the chance to congratulate you on your superb work here. It’s magnificent!” Cosette said. 

“Thank you, my dear.” Andrews said. His eyes fell upon Ismay who was anything but modest when he was flaunting about the Titanic. “It seems Old Man Ismay is certainly one to admit that.” 

Cosette looked at Marius, then back to Andrews. “Mr. Andrews, I was wondering…may we have a word?” 

Andrews nodded, and the three of them walked down the Promenade. They found themselves at the aft section, where the back mast was positioned, just below the Boat Deck. 

“How may I be of service, Miss Fauchelevant?” Andrews asked.

Cosette fumbled with her hands. “Well…back on the 10th, when Mrs. Brown had called this ship ‘practically unsinkable’, you looked rather…pale.” 

Andrews nodded his head. “I see.” 

“We were just concerned about you because…I mean…you are the one who built her. And suddenly you’re so…unsure. I don’t understand.” Marius said.

Andrews took a deep, partially frustrated breath and said “I personally have never called her unsinkable. And I personally don’t believe there is such a term.” 

Marius and Cosette looked at each other. Andrews continued.

“For some incomprehensible reason, the press had labelled her as ‘unsinkable’ simply because of the design of the ship. Down below, deep inside the ship, we’ve added a double-skin. It’s meant to protect against the penetration of collision. But I cannot nor will not be held accountable for the construction of this ship…”

“What are you talking about?” Cosette asked. “This ship is a masterpiece and…”

“The steel is weak.” Andrews whispered.

Marius’s eyes widened. “What?”

“When they were making the steel that would become the hull of the ship, they used weaker materials in a cost-cutting measure. The company had tried to cut corners. They did the same thing when they removed half of the lifeboats that were in the original plan. They only cared about money!” 

Andrews walked over and leaned over the railing, tensing up as he spoke. “That’s not all. This ship is designed with sixteen watertight compartments. The idea is, if one compartment floods, then the others would be closed off, and the ship wouldn’t feel the rest of the damage. By this theory, the walls that divide these compartments…or bulkheads…should be as high as about B-Deck, so that the water doesn’t go anywhere.”

“But lo and behold, Ismay the bloody money saving mongrel is at it again! He demanded that the bulkheads be lowered, just so his First Class staterooms can be expanded.” 

Cosette felt disgusted. Marius wanted to walk over to Ismay and either punch him or throw him overboard. 

“So as you can imagine, it’s becoming more difficult to listen to him brag about a ship…whose construction was executed against everything that I stood for!” 

Marius gripped Andrews by the shoulders. “Perhaps…when the craze has settled down over the Titanic, perhaps you could perform renovations?” 

“That would just cost Harland and Wolff more money.” Andrews said, before sulking off towards the Promenade deck. 

Cosette and Marius had a newfound sadness for Andrews, and a newfound contempt for Ismay.


	6. The Night of April 14th

**DISCLAIMER: Sexual Content in this chapter. Viewer discretion is advised.**

**AUTHOR’S NOTE: I hope everyone is enjoying reading this fan fic as much as I am enjoying writing it. I’m trying to give the characters the same amount of time for each chapter, but sometimes it’s hard to keep the plot moving or interesting. I’m seriously new to this ahaha. Anyway, please leave a review I’m dying for some feedback and if you follow this or me I will follow right back! Anyway, enough rambling. Back to the story.**

**6:44 PM**

**SUNDAY, APRIL 14 th, 1912**

**_RMS Titanic_ ** **, Atlantic Ocean**

Combeferre was filling out a form for his share of the Boston office; a task that he had yet to accomplish since the voyage began. Eponine had promised to meet with him at 7 o’clock after dinner. By now he was almost anxious to see her.

 

His friend Enjolras was down in the Second Class Dining Saloon; dinner was finished early, so he and some of his new friends were attending a small impromptu service held by Father Thomas Byles.

 

Combeferre checked his pocket-watch, gathered his paperwork, and left the Library.

 

When he returned to his cabin, he grabbed his coat, dislocated his tie, and tussled up his hair, remembering what Eponine had done to help him blend in with the other Third Class passengers.

 

After checking himself over, he walked out of his cabin, met by Gavroche in his bellhop uniform.

 

“I’m surprised no one had pulled you aside having you tend to any bellhop-related duties.” Combeferre smiled.

 

“Aye. Part of me disappearing act. T’were only the second time I put this on.” The little one replied.

 

“Oh, by the way…” Combeferre began. He turned to Gavroche, pulled out his wallet, and produced a 20-pound note. “This is for all of your great work. I can’t thank you enough.”

 

Gavroche held up his hand. “No thanks, Governor. Not this time.”

 

Combeferre stood baffled. Gavroche continued. “I may have street smarts, but to be honest, it took me a while before I realized who you were. It wasn’t ‘til I saw you with my sister that I remembered you from Ireland. My family likes you. Eponine _really_ likes you. And therefore, I like you. I do this for her!” he said, nudging Combeferre on the arm.

Combeferre smiled and patted his little friend on the back. “Well take this anyway. At the very least, give this to your parents.”

 

Gavroche sighed and took the note and shoved it in his pocket. “I’d normally feel guilty about it but you’re already family at this point.” He said before walking back towards the Third Class section.

 

Combeferre’s heart started racing. He remembered making such a good impression with the Thenadier family back in Ireland when he and Eponine were schoolmates; but he had no idea of how much they liked him.

 

He adjusted his coat and followed Gavroche.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Eponine combed her hair in the mirror. She wanted to look presentable to Combeferre.

 

“Now dear…” Mrs. Thenadier began. “You mustn’t be too disappointed…you know…if it isn’t his intention…”

 

“I understand, Mother...but if nothing else, we’ll always write. That much we’ve promised each other.”

 

Her mother nodded. “Aye. T’is not like you’ll never speak to him again.”

 

Eponine put her comb down on the sink on the wall facing the door and bunk beds. “How do I look?” she said.

 

She was wearing a white button down shirt tucked in a dark red skirt, that twirled when she spun around. Her sister had placed a small bow in her hair to keep it in check.

 

“Like you’re in love.” Mrs. Thenadier smiled. “Now, go out there and make him feel the same way.”

 

Eponine hugged her mother and then walked out of the cabin.

 

Mr. Thenadier walked in 5 minutes later. “Oh I hope we’re making the right decision.”

 

“Oh not to worry, Mrs. Thenadier. The first day we met the boy, he told me how much he liked her. We want the best for her, and from what I’ve seen and gathered, he’s pretty much near it.”

Mr. Thenadier replied.

 

 

 

**6:51 PM**

**Boat Deck**

Cosette and Marius took a stroll on the Boat Deck before they were to head down to the A La Carte restaurant.

 

The Wideners were hosting a party in that restaurant in honor of Captain Smith’s retirement. They all considered him “The Millionaire’s Captain” because he was everybody’s favorite. In fact, some passengers had refused to sail unless it was him that captained the ship.

 

“Marius…” Cosette spoke up. “Do you think…I know it may seem impertinent, but do you think you’ll be allowed to write…after the wedding?”

 

Marius shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it depends on the bride-to-be. If she feels the same way I do about it, she won’t really object if we write each other.”

 

Cosette smiled. “I’d really like that.”

 

“Me too.” Marius said turning to her. “I’ve really enjoyed myself these past few days. You have been amazing company.”

 

Cosette blushed, and said “I’ve enjoyed myself too. You’re a good man, Mr. Pontmercy. You’ll make a fine husband.”

 

Marius looked down at his feet. “Maybe…but never a happy one.”

 

Cosette nodded, bringing her head down too. “Because it’s arranged?”

 

Marius then took her hand in his. “No. Because I’ll never enjoy my life not knowing what could’ve been.”

 

Cosette looked up at him in the face. Her chest was tightening, as was his.

 

She could feel the pulse of her heart beat in her fingers. He could feel it too.

 

And before either one could pull away, the two leaned in and gently kissed.

 

Cosette had expected just a tiny peck on the cheek…but Marius went directly for the lips.

 

They stood there…frozen in time…before pulling away finally.

 

Their foreheads touched. “Now Cosette, you’ll make me a miserable arranged husband.”

 

She gave a slight laugh…even if one of her eyes began to get watery.

**6:59 PM**

**Scotland Road, E-Deck**

Combeferre shifted from his toes to his heels back and forth, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. He heard the floor beneath him click with the sound of footsteps, and that’s when he saw her.

 

Eponine came up to him, looking more nervous than ever. Her hands were shaking.

 

“Eponine?” He said, rushing over to her. “Are you well? You’re trembling!”

 

“I’m fine…never better.” She smiled. “Just…nervous.”

 

“Nervous? What is there to be nervous about? I’m the one that should be nervous.”

 

“Franklin…” She began, stumbling across her words. “I kissed you the other night because…what you said about how you feel about me…it was exactly what I wanted to hear. I’ve been crazy about you too. I’ve tried to fight off my feelings because I didn’t think I’d ever see you again…” a tear rolled down her cheek as she struggled to talk.

 

Combeferre leaned in and wiped away the tears from her cheek.

 

“Yet somehow…” Eponine sniffled. “Now that our feelings are bared…I feel so…I don’t know if it’s the right word…but I feel so safe with you.”

 

Combeferre picked up a strand of Eponine’s hair that was in her face, and pushed it back behind her ear.

 

“There’s no easy way for me to say it, Frank. But…I love you…and I can’t imagine a future without you…” She then turned away from him, hiding her face.

 

He went to her, put his arms around her shoulders. “Don’t cry…” he said in a soothing voice.

 

She continued talking through her sniffling voice. “I think I’ve always loved you ever since I saw what kind of a man you were…still are. But I was just so confused…I’ve never experienced this kind of feeling before and it scared me…”

 

She was interrupted by Combeferre’s gentle kiss. When they broke away, he kissed her forehead, and their eyes locked. “I want a future with you too, Eponine…it’s all I ever wanted…”

 

Eponine’s heart started racing. She pulled him back in for a longer, deeper kiss.

 

Combeferre held her waist tight within his arms.

 

 

Eponine pulled back, took his hand in hers. “Let’s walk?” she asked.

 

He followed her as the two of them walked down the long corridor. He mused on the length of it before realizing that this was the length of the ship, and thus the crew’s access from one point of the ship to another.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“You’ll see.” She said.

 

The two of them approached a staircase leading to the lower decks. She led him down the stairs and into a smaller corridor. Eponine looked at something in her free hand.

 

Combeferre could tell she was nervous. The hand he was holding was beginning to sweat.

 

“Eponine…you’re beginning to make _me_ nervous just by observing you…can you tell me where we’re going?”

 

Eponine let go of his hand, and turned around to face him. “We’ve both been very lucky this voyage…with you not getting caught being in Third Class.” she began.

 

“But even if we were in the same class, we still would’ve had difficulty…finding a place to be…alone…”

 

Combeferre’s chest began to tighten.

 

“I have a friend from back home who works on the ship…I’ve asked him a really big favor…but only if you’re willing…”

 

“Eponine…what are you saying?” Combeferre asked softly.

 

Eponine opened up her hands to reveal a key. “There’s an empty cabin here…” she said quickly.

 

The lump in Combeferre’s throat came back. “Eponine…are you sure?”

 

She slowly nodded. “I’ve never been more sure in my life. But…we won’t if you don’t want to.”

 

Combeferre looked down at his feet. “Eponine…I would love to…but I have to ask you first…are you completely sure you want a future with me? I mean…would you consider coming to Boston and staying with me…to start a new life together?”

 

Eponine’s breathing became more noticeable. “If I wasn’t sure…I wouldn’t ask you to do this with me. My parents gave me their blessing, gasp shock and horror.” She giggled.

 

Combeferre smiled softly. Eponine continued. “So wherever you go, whether it’s Boston or the other side of the world…I will want to go too, if you’ll let me.”

 

Combeferre responded by holding her face in his hands and kissing her gently. “I’m sure by now you know the answer to that.”

 

She smiled and kissed his hands that were holding her. “Are you ready?” she asked.

 

He adjusted his glasses. “You’ll have to bear with me…this will be my first time.”

 

She walked over to the door and turned back around to him. “Don’t worry. I’m right up there with you.” She winked.

 

Combeferre had to wipe his hands from his own sweat as she inserted the key into the lock on the door.

 

As they walked in, Eponine searched for the light-switch and turned it on.

 

She closed the door and locked it tight.

 

They stood facing each other for a minute or two.

 

He took off his overcoat and placed it on the bottom bunk bed.

 

She took his hands in hers, and placed them to hold the top button of her shirt. He looked at her cautiously, and she silently gave him permission.

 

He slowly undid the top few buttons…and he suddenly understood why she wanted him to do this. She closed her eyes and began to breath heavily.

 

When he got to the bottom button, he opened the shirt up, revealing her in a white lacy corset, which hugged her curves perfectly. He never noticed how shapely she was until now…so his eyes widened.

 

She couldn’t help her giggle. “You’ve never seen a woman in her undergarments before.

 

He blushed at the question, and shook her head.

 

Then she took his hands, and places them at the hem of her skirt. He searched around until he could feel the button on the right side of her waist. He undid the button, and it loosened around her waist.

 

He knelt down and she held onto his shoulders. He tugged the hem of the skirt, and gently pulled it down her legs.

When the skirt was down to her knees, and after she stepped out of it, he proceeded to take her boots off.

 

After taking both off, he was presented with the sight of her bare legs. He slid his hands up her smooth legs…up to her thighs.

 

She reached down to lift his chin up to meet her face. “Your turn.”

 

He smiled and stood up. She slipped off his suit jacket and threw it next to his overcoat. Then she undid the buttons of his blue velvet vest. She slid that off of his arms and threw that back onto the pile.

 

She began to fumble when she was starting to unbutton his white shirt. “Are you alright?” he asked.

 

She nodded as she continued down the hem of his shirt.

 

When she saw him bare…she nearly gasped.

 

She’s only ever seen the top half of a male naked, and that was Gavroche whenever the family would go swimming at the seaside.

 

Her heart started racing when she saw how muscular he was.

 

“You must be quite strong…” she said softly.

 

He blushed again. “I’ve been very athletic in my younger days.”

 

She gripped onto his muscles, stroking his arms up and down. “Well…let’s see just how much of a man you are in other areas.” She winked.

 

She knelt down to her knees, and loosened up his belt. He held onto the platforms of the top bunk beds…fearing his knees would buckle from the anticipation. When he looked down, he saw her sliding his pants and his underpants down his legs in one move.

 

“Wow…I never considered you to be so big.” She said, her eyes staring at it.

 

He responded by bending down, and scooping her up in his arms. “Somehow, I feel like I’m going to be even more athletic after tonight.”

 

Her heart started pounding as he lifted her up, and placed her on the top bunk. She pulled down the sheets and waited for him to climb up with her, then wrapped the blankets around them.

 

When he got on top of her, she pulled him closer to her as they started kissing passionately.

 

He took off his glasses, and then went back to kissing her. Soon, his tongue penetrated her mouth, feeling around her tongue as they continued.

 

When they pulled apart, she looked at him and whispered “You seem to be quite handy with your tongue.”

 

He gave her his signature smile…the one that makes her melt. “That’s not all I can do with my tongue…” he said.

 

The next thing she knew, he grabbed onto the shoulder straps of her corset, and slid them down her arms, until finally…her breasts were exposed.

 

And before she could grasp on what he was going to do, he leaned down to her chest, and started kissing her left nipple.

 

She breathed heavily, as he suddenly started swirling his tongue around the nipple…flicking the tip as he sucked.

 

“Oh…god…Frank!” she moaned.

 

This time, he didn’t stop to ask if she was ok. He knew she was beyond ok at this point. He switched over to her right nipple, and did the exact same thing.

 

She pressed the back of her head deeper into the pillow. She couldn’t believe this moment was happening.

 

“Now…Frank…now! I can’t…take it anymore…” she gasped in between breaths.

 

He took the signal, and grabbed the waistline of her underwear, slid it down her legs and let it dangle over one of her feet.

 

He positioned himself so he was on top of her once again.

 

She grabbed a hold of his manhood, and positioned it so that it would be set in place.

 

He looked at her for permission one last time. And when she nodded, he took a deep breath and slid right in.

 

She closed her eyes and moaned louder than he expected her too.

 

“Am I hurting you?” He asked.

 

“God no…” she gasped.

 

Aware of the possibility of hurting her, he decided not to slide in any deeper. This plan failed as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in deeper.

 

“Jesus…Frank…Don’t stop!” she panted.

 

He looked at her as he was thrusting back and forth. When he saw how attractive she looked as her head slid up and down on the pillow, he began to throb inside her.

 

Her eyes widened. “Jesus Mary and Joseph…” she gasped.

 

He responded by kissing her neck as he continued to thrust inside her.

 

“God…Eponine…” he muttered. “I think…”

 

Her legs wrapped around him tighter. “Just keep going…don’t stop…”

 

He placed his hands on opposite sides of Eponine’s head to support himself, as he continued to thrust deeper.

 

Her eyes shut tight from the enjoyment. “Yes…oh god yes!” she moaned.

 

“Eponine…I’m close…” he said, as he raised his head.

 

Her legs would not loosen up. “I don’t care! Just come into me! Please…” she begged.

 

His thought process was lost, and he just kept thrusting until he could feel himself throb beyond control, and he exploded inside her. Eponine let out a loud, satisfied moan.

 

He stayed there for a few minutes, before finally pulling out of her, against her whimpering protests.

 

He adjusted himself so that he laid down next to her. She was still staring at the ceiling…chest heaving.

 

He too tried to catch his breath. They were both at a loss for words.

 

“You’re…amazing…” Eponine said in between breaths.

 

Combeferre nodded and said “You too…”

 

Eponine found the strength to wrap her arms around Combeferre. “Can we stay here for a few minutes?” She asked.

Combeferre wrapped his arm around her shoulder, letting her in more. “If I had it my way, I’d have you stay here with me until we reach New York.”

 

Eponine grew bright red.

 

**8:45 PM**

**Gatti’s Restaurant, B-Deck**

 

The party held by the Wideners certainly was elegant. The food was delicious; the conversations were lively. It was certainly a night to remember.

 

Marius and Cosette were sitting opposite each other. They tried to engage in conversation but failed a few times. Neither of them were really sure of what to do after the little moment they had up on deck.

 

But tonight was not about them. They were supposed to be enjoying themselves and honoring Captain Smith.

 

In fact, Marius felt a little relieved that the Wideners’ son Harry was talking to Cosette about his collection of books. It took pressure off of himself.

 

In a way, he’s silently hoping to himself that she takes a liking to Harry. At least by then, only one of them will have to suffer heartbreak, and Marius would rather it be himself.

 

Cosette could deduce Marius’s expressions and picked up his vibe. Understanding why he wasn’t trying to talk to her, she continued the conversation with Harry.

 

Her father saw the whole thing.

 

It was around 9:00 pm when Captain Smith had to excuse himself. He thanked the Wideners, Mr. and Mrs. John B. Thayer, the Carters, Major Butt, Marius, the Fauchelevants, and Clarence Moore for the delightful evening.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Valjean escorted his daughter back to the cabin. Before she unlocked the door he asked her if anything had happened between her and Marius.

 

Cosette shook her head and politely bid her father goodnight.

 

 

 

 

 

**9:30 PM**

**Bridge**

 

Captain Smith had greeted Officers Lightoller and Moody at their posts. Javert was working the chart house again tonight.

 

“Have we had any more ice reports?” Smith asked Lightoller.

 

“No sir. Mr. Javert’s working the coordinates on the last one.”

 

“Temperature?”

 

“Just above the freezing point, and still dropping. We should be approaching the Labrador Current within the hour.” The second officer commented.

 

“Hmm…” Smith said to himself. “No moon, and no wind…”

 

“Flat calm…” Lightoller replied. “Although…it will make it harder to spot icebergs in the water. No moon to reflect against the ice, and no wind to break water at the base…it’s rather ghastly if I may say, sir.”

 

Smith nodded. “Keep a sharp watch. Decrease speed if there is any hint of a haze ahead. And if it gets at all doubtful, let me know at once. I’ll be in my cabin.”

 

“Aye-aye sir.” Lightoller saluted.

 

**9:40 PM**

**Wireless Room, Boat Deck**

 

Operator Jack Phillips was rubbing his forehead in frustration. Just the night before the radio equipment had broken down. It took him and Second Operator Bride the majority of the night to get it back in commission again.

 

The delay produced a backload of incoming messages.

 

Aside from sending and receiving ice warnings, the two were also swamped with passenger mail, which only added to the frustration. Phillips had just relieved Bride of his shift, and was trying to work out the passenger mail, when his headphones started beeping in Morse Code.

 

It was from the _Mesaba_.

 

**_“To Titanic, Ice report in lat 42.n to 41.25n Long 49w to long 50.30w saw much heavy pack ice and great number large icebergs also field ice. Weather good clear.”_ **

At this point, Phillips was beyond mentally exhausted to even call for a steward. He picks up the ice warning that he wrote, and spiked it.

**9:50PM**

**_S.S. Californian_ **

Captain Stanley Lord was walking back and forth on the bridge. Quartermaster Claquesous was at the helm.

 

Lookouts Babet and Brujon were stationed at the bow of the ship. They looked out ahead, and motioned for their crewmate Gueulemer to run over closer to the bridge to give their reports.

 

“Field Ice dead ahead, sir!” He said.

 

Captain Lord looked through his binoculars. “Stop engines.” He ordered.

 

“Mr. Groves.” He called for Third Officer Groves. “Yes sir?”

 

“Work out our position. If there are any ships in the facility, we’ll have to radio and tell them our situation. We’ve stopped for the night and are surrounded by ice.” Lord said.

 

“Aye-aye, sir.” Groves replied, before walking over to the chart table.

 

Second Officer Stone was looking through his binoculars. “Captain Lord, there’s a ship just to the south east of us.”

 

Lord picked up his binoculars and looked through as well.

 

“It looks as if it’s some big passenger liner. Maybe 10…15 miles?”

 

“Hmm…looks as if it’s closer to us in size if you ask me. Mr. Groves?”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Any other ships within our facility?”

 

“Only the _Titanic_ , sir.”

 

Lord looked again through his binoculars. “Well _that_ certainly can’t be the _Titanic_. That looks like a freighter.”

 

“Our coordinates are worked out, sir.” Groves said.

 

“Good. If the _Titanic_ is nearby, tell Evans to radio her, and tell her our situation.

**10:15 PM**

**First Class Smoking Room**

Valjean, Colonel Astor, George Widener, J.H. Rogers, and Benjamin Guggenheim were all sitting at a round table playing poker.

 

When Valjean picked up his new cards after discarding his unwanted ones, his face dropped. Rogers was the only one to notice.

 

“I’ll see you, and raise you by $50.” Widener threw in two chips.

 

“I’ll see to that.” Astor replied by throwing in two chips as well.

 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to fold.” Guggenheim said, putting his cards down.

 

Valjean threw his chips in next. “Your move, Mr. Rogers.”

 

Rogers picked up four chips. “I’ll raise you double.”

 

Widener threw down his cards. “I’m out, gentlemen.”

 

Valjean hesitated. He looked at the pile and then at his cards. Taking a deep breath, he threw in two more chips. “I’ll see that.” He said, ready to reveal his cards.

 

Astor revealed his cards first. “Full House.”

 

Rogers chuckled and revealed his cards and said “Straight flush to the queen.” All of them looked at the Eight of Hearts, Nine of Hearts, Ten of Hearts, Jack of Hearts, and Queen of Hearts.”

 

Valjean looked as if his heart dropped to his knees. Rogers couldn’t help but smirk as he reached over to pull in the chips.

 

“Ahem…” Valjean began. “I never revealed my cards.” He flipped them over one by one.

 

Ten of Spades. Jack of Spades. Queen of Spades. King of Spades. Ace of Spades.

 

Rogers couldn’t believe his eyes. He has played poker for years, and was only rarely outsmarted.

“Fauchelevant, you old rascal! I can’t believe I bought your bluff!” Rogers laughed as Valjean collected the chips.

 

“To tell you the truth, I never thought I’d have it in me.”

 

The rest of the men chuckled.

 

“Tomorrow night, we’ll arrange for Bridge.” Astor said.

 

The men got up from their table and settled their debts each other for their winnings. Valjean received his earnings, and thanked each one of them, and offered them a round of drinks in celebration. Astor and Widener accepted the offer, but Guggenheim declined, excusing himself to personal matters.

 

“Probably seeing to Madame Aubert.” Widener whispered.

 

Valjean approached the bartender. “A bottle of your best champagne, young man.”

 

“Very good, sir.” The bartender replied.

 

The three men toasted to their good game. When they were finished, Astor and Widener bid Valjean a good evening and left the room.

 

Valjean decided to stay at the bar for a few minutes. He then saw Officer Javert enter the room.

 

“Good evening, Officer.” Valjean greeted.

 

“Good evening, sir. Bartender, is everything alright?” Javert asked.

 

The bartender nodded.

 

“May I buy you a drink?” Valjean asked.

 

“Thank you, no. On duty, I’m afraid.” Javert replied.

 

He took a long look around the room, before setting his eyes on the round table in front of the fireplace.

 

Javert leaned in so the bartender would whisper.

 

“Is he still on a winning streak?” He asked. The bartender looked dumbfounded. Valjean moved to another seat to give Javert the impression of getting out of earshot.

 

“Round table, center man.” Javert motioned to Rogers.

Valjean smiled. He wanted to answer for the bartender that it was he who broke Rogers’s streak, but it wouldn’t be in his place to bring himself into the private conversation.

 

“Up until the last game, sir.” The bartender replied.

 

“Hmm…what a surprise.” Javert said. “Last time I saw him, it was the _Majestic_. His name?”

 

“J.H. Rogers.” The bartender said.

 

Javert looked intrigued. “Is that so? When I saw him aboard the _Majestic_ he went by the name Jay Yates.”

 

Valjean looked up from his drink. He had actually outsmarted a card-shark, and a very dangerous one at that.

 

He took one last sip from his glass and proceeded to exit the Smoking Room.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Mabeuf had climbed up the Aft staircase and was met by Valjean.

 

“Looking for Lord Gillenormand?” Valjean asked.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Well I’m afraid to tell you that he wasn’t in the Smoking Room.”

 

“Oh…well thank you for telling me, sir.”

 

“Uh, young man. Wait a moment.” Valjean said, approaching the valet.

 

“I assume you of all people are made aware of his Lordship’s condition?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And his financial situation?” Valjean asked.

 

“It doesn’t matter to me that he doesn’t pay me well anymore if that’s what you mean. I know finances are tight.”

 

Valjean took out his wallet. “I do not know well enough, but from what I’ve observed, I personally believe you are being overworked.” He took out the generous portion of his winnings from the card game.

 

“Oh no, sir. I couldn’t accept…”

 

“I just won this money in a card game. It’s not like I’ll be short funded. I insist. His lordship…bless his heart, won’t be around for much longer. This should be used for _your_ security too. Please take it.”

 

Mabeuf wanted to break out of his servant mannerisms and shake the old man’s hand vigorously. “Thank you, sir. This means a lot.”

 

Valjean smiled as the two parted ways.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Phillips was in the middle of receiving a message for John B. Thayer with regards to a train reservation waiting for him and his family in New York.

 

_DEE DEE…DEE DEE DEE…DEE DAH_

Phillips nearly yanked his headphones off of his head from the loud blaring. He turned the volume down to comprehend the loud intrusion. He groaned in annoyance. It was the _Californian_.

 

 ** _“I say, OM…”_** OM meant Old Man in Morse abbreviation. **_“We are stopped and surrounded by field ice. Our coordinates are…”_**

****

Phillips had had all he could take. He slammed his pencil down and started tapping away on the Morse key in response.

 

**_“Shut up! Shut up! I am busy! I am working Cape Race! Keep out!”_ **

****

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Wireless Operator Cyril Evans stopped tapping and listened to the message that was being sent to him.

 

He scoffed and said “Well piss on you, you rotten cur!” before shutting down the radio equipment.

 

Since the _Californian_ was a smaller ship, she was equipped with only the one wireless operator, and therefore, did not come equipped with the 24-hour watch.

 

So the ship stayed idle…just about 10 or 15 miles away from the _Titanic_ , as she continued on her path.


	7. ICEBERG DEAD AHEAD

**11:00 PM**

**_RMS Titanic_ ** **, Atlantic Ocean, 110 miles off the coast of Newfoundland**

**Third Class Hallway**

“I had a fantastic time.” Feuilly said to Azelma as they were walking to her cabin.

 

“As did I.” Azelma replied. The two of them were holding hands. She sighed. “You know, if I had a luxury cabin with a sitting room, and a chaperone, I would’ve invited you inside for a chat. But…as I’m sure it’s the same for you, my cabin is about yay-big.” She said, holding her pointer and middle finger close together.

 

Feuilly chuckled. “It’s just as well. I need to return to my cabin anyway. The stewardess will probably have my head if I were caught in this side of the cabins at this time of night.

 

Azelma smiled and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

 

Feuilly waved goodbye and walked down the hallway.

 

Azelma blushed as she entered her cabin.

 

When she saw her parents there, and Gavroche asleep on the top bunk, she wondered where Eponine was.

 

Trying not to wake her little brother up, she whispered to her parents asking about Eponine’s whereabouts. They responded that she was out and about with Combeferre.

 

She smiled to herself. _“About damn time.”_ She thought as she waited for her parents to leave the room so she could change into her nightgown and climb into the top bunk opposite Gavroche.

 

**11:23 PM**

**Cabin D-34, Second Class Cabins**

Clara was turning down the bed for Lesgles. Joly was out with Courfeyrac and Prouvaire.

 

“How long have you been with White Star?” Julien asked.

 

“About three months.” She answered.

 

Julien couldn’t help but admire looking at her. “You ever have plans to just stay in America?”

 

Clara thought on that question. “I don’t know. Working ships is all I know, really.”

 

Julien stood up to face her. “Oh come on, there must be _something_ you can do besides ships.”

 

Clara faced him. “Well…I’ve always wanted to be a nurse and work in a hospital.”

 

“You know…Joly is practicing medicine…if you ever wanted to, I’m sure he would love to get you set up somewhere.”

 

She looked at him carefully. “Why?” she asked.

 

Julien saw the weight of her delivering that question. “Well if you must know…because I would like to see you again, and I’d prefer not to wait on the next ship and play a guessing game if you’re still on it.”

 

Clara’s eyes widened. “But…Mr. Lesgles, we’ve only just met.”

 

“Oui, but I’ve really enjoyed my time with you. And I was just hoping that maybe we could see each other outside of sea voyages?” he said.

 

Clara fumbled with her words. “Mr. Lesgles…I am highly flattered. I really am…but…if what I think you’re leaning towards is true, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

 

Julien laughed. “The cabin door is open, for goodness sakes. Besides, I’m not that kind of a man.”

 

“Oh I know…but I was talking about a relationship. I’ve joined White Star to sail the world because…I’ve gotten out of a bad relationship, and I’m not so sure I’m ready to put myself out there.”

 

Julien nodded…feeling dejected.

 

“I’m sorry, this isn’t proper for me to talk of my personal business.” Clara said before finishing up with the beds.

 

“No, I am sorry. I spoke out of line…it wasn’t fair of me…I wasn’t being considerate of your feelings.”

 

“You didn’t know…it’s fine. Is there anything else you need?” She said hastily in regards to the cabin.

 

Julien looked at her. “No…nothing.”

 

She smiled and bid him goodnight and walked out the door. Julien sat on the couch…lost in thought.

 

 

**11:37 PM**

**Second Class Boat Deck**

 

Joly, Courfeyrac and Prouvaire were walking out on deck, admiring the star-filled sky.

 

Joly of course, was the one wrapped up in the most clothing to protect himself from the cold.

 

“Mon Dieu…” Prouvaire began. “It is times like these that I really wish I was an artist and not a poet. Look at the horizon!” he said pointing to the ocean and sky.

 

The three of them leaned on the railing just behind Lifeboat #15.

 

“It’s an amazing image of variety. Up in the sky, you have a clear dark blue sky, without the interference of a bright moon…almost cluttered with so many stars. And down below, the reflection of the sea collects absolutely nothing. And it is so calm…as if you’re staring deep into a dark void…it’s so serene.”

 

Courfeyrac nudged him on the arm. “I don’t see why you can’t write poetry about this. You’re a good poet, Jean. You have the capabilities to create something great.”

 

Jean shook his head. “Nothing I submit ever gets published. I don’t have a chance.”

 

“Nonsense!” Joly said. “You have potential. You just have to find your calling.”

 

They were interrupted by Clara exiting the staircase entrance. She had approached Joly.

 

“Mr. Rivera…?” she asked.

 

Joly turned around to face her. “Yes?”

 

“I understand that you are practicing medicine?” Clara asked.

 

“Uh not quite…I am enrolled at medical school at Harvard. But I do work closely with hospitals.” Joly replied. “Why?”

 

“Well…I was just…never mind…” she proceeded to walk away. Joly followed after her.

 

“No, wait. Is something troubling you, my dear?” Joly asked.

 

Courfeyrac and Prouvaire decided to continue their walk, leaving the two alone.

 

“It’s just…I fear Mr. Lesgles may be infatuated with me.” The stewardess explained. “I really shouldn’t reciprocate any feelings towards passengers. It’s bad discipline!”

 

“Well what does that have to do with becoming a nurse?”

 

“He asked me if I intend to stay aboard ships…and he felt that if I became a nurse on land, he would be able to see me more often…At first I rejected the thought…but as I was walking up here I began to feel…conflicted.”

 

“Do you care for him?” Joly asked.

 

Clara slowly nodded. “It is against my principles though. I can’t have feelings for a passenger…it’s unethical…”

 

Joly nodded. “And that’s why you’ve reconsidered applying to become a nurse.”

 

“Yes…that way I can quit being a stewardess and not have any sense of guilt for falling for a passenger.”

 

“And I suppose falling for a doctor makes everything just ginger and peaches?” a voice said behind them.

 

Clara and Joly turned to see Julien standing in the doorway of the Second Class entrance.

 

“Mr. Lesgles…this isn’t what it looks like.”

 

“No…I understand perfectly. You’re not interested in a man like me. I get the picture. I hope you two have a great life together.” He said, looking grim, before turning around to go inside.

 

Joly ran over to him. “Julien…wait.”

 

Just then…all three of them felt a strange vibration underneath them.

 

**Two Minutes Earlier**

**Forecastle Deck**

Combeferre and Eponine walked outside and climbed up to the Forecastle deck, which supported the Crow’s Nest on the main mast.

 

He had given Eponine his overcoat to wear. She couldn’t have been happier.

 

“What is it about me, Frank?” She had asked him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What made you first fall in love with me?”

 

Combeferre wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I couldn’t help but notice you were quite the troublemaker in school. And…other people in my shoes may have found it disquieting. I found it exhilarating. I’ve always wanted to step out of my comfort zone and live out a day with excitement.”

 

Eponine nudged her head against Combeferre’s shoulder. “Was I your best day of excitement?”

 

He stopped and turned her around to face him. “Not was. And not just a day. We already told each other what we wanted. And I vowed that I would never lose you again.”

 

Her eyes glistened against the stars. “You never lost me. I was simply misplaced.”

 

He took her face in his hands. “So maybe five years of absence won’t be so long…compared to the rest of our lives.”

 

Her smile grew wider, and she threw her arms around him and kissed him like she’s never kissed him before.

 

_DONG! DONG! DONG!_

They pulled away from their kiss. Combeferre adjusted his glasses. “Don’t the bells start afterwards?” Eponine laughed.

 

**One minute earlier**

**11:39 PM**

**Crow’s Nest**

 

Just above where Combeferre and Eponine were standing on deck, Lookouts Frederick Fleet and Reginald Lee were shivering in the cold. Without binoculars they had to squint their eyes to see if they could find anything.

 

Fleet was more annoyed than any other lookout about the binoculars being inaccessible. His eyes were starting to hurt. He began to rub them when he was looking up ahead.

 

The horizon was perfectly divided between the moonless sky and the black ocean…until now.

 

It looked as if the ocean was forming up a strange shape against the sky.

 

As the shape began to grow larger…Fleet’s heart dropped. Without wasting another moment, he grabbed the rope attached to the bell, and yanked it three times.

 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Officer Moody walked over to the phone connected to the Crow’s Nest and picked it up.

 

 _“Is anyone there?!”_ Fleet shouted through the phone.

 

“Yes. What did you see?” Moody asked.

 

_“Iceberg! Dead Ahead!”_

 

“Thank you!” Moody said before hanging up the phone. He rushed over to Officer Murdoch. “Iceberg dead ahead, sir!”

 

Murdoch ran to the window to confirm the report. He shouted into the mouthpiece to Quartermaster Hitchens who was at the helm. “Hard-A-Starboard!”

 

“Hard-A-Starboard, sir!” Hitchens replied, before spinning the wheel as fast as he could. Unfortunately, his brain had misinterpreted the order, and he was spinning the wheel the complete opposite direction.

 

“Full Speed Astern!” Murdoch ordered, before running to the one telegraph. The two officers yanked the levers all the way up to stop, then forward again, and then yanked them all the way until they both pointed to _Astern_.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

During this particular shift, Bahorel was helping Grantaire with loading up the coal, as the order for 23 knots had them working twice as hard.

 

_AWOOOGA! AWOOOGA! AWOOOGA!_

The two of them stopped what they were doing. They looked up at the red light flashing in the Boiler Room.

 

This baffled everyone. Suddenly Barrett barged in shouting for everyone to shut the dampers. “COME ON, LADS! SHUT THE DAMPERS! CLOSE THEM!” He shouted.

 

Bahorel and Grantaire ran to their stations, and started closing the furnace hatches…pulling cranks…and revolving valves as fast as they could.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Combeferre and Eponine laughed at first at his remark on the bell.

 

Then they heard the lookout shouting.

 

They turned around and saw something that left them speechless.

 

It was a large black mass. It looked to be the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. Combeferre grabbed Eponine’s hand and held it tight. The two of them slowly inched back from the thing as it moved slowly forward…towards the ship.

 

“What’s taking them so long?” Eponine asked, worried.

 

“This is a large ship…it would take a while for it to respond…” Combeferre answered.

 

The iceberg was almost past the prow when they were at the stairs.

 

Eponine was on the Well Deck, and Combeferre was still on the stairs when it happened…

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

A loud piercing sound of metal scrapping was followed by several chunks of ice breaking away from the large berg.

 

Combeferre ran from the falling chunks but nearly slipped on one.

 

Eponine nearly screamed and ran over to him. “Oh God, are you alright?!” She panicked as she helped him up.

 

He brushed himself off, and tried to reassure her that he was fine.

 

The two of them hustled over to the railing to see the iceberg as it passed them.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Bahorel was knocked off his feet by the strong gush of water that blasted through the iron plated hull.

 

Grantaire helped him to his feet.

 

“OUT! EVERYBODY OUT NOW!” Barrett shouted. “COME ON! THEY’RE CLOSING THE DOORS!”

 

Grantaire and Bahorel could see the watertight doors slowly inching down towards the ground.

The two of them ran as fast as they could. They knew the doors wouldn’t stop for anyone.

 

Bahorel ran through the door first, and Grantaire was the last lucky one to get through. He dove for the ground and slid into some wet coal on the other side.

 

They were inside Boiler Room #5, when the water started penetrating this room too.

 

“Hurry up boys!” Engineer Hesketh shouted. “We need to draw the fires lest you wanna blow us all to kingdom come!”

 

Bahorel and Grantaire reached for some picks and started dragging the coal out of the furnaces. If the cold water reached the furnaces while they were live, an explosion would occur…which would be deadly for the ship.

 

“What the bloody hell’s happening?!” Grantaire muttered.

 

“Hell if I know! We must’ve hit something!” Bahorel answered, as he was struggling to pull out as much coal as he could.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Joly, Julien, and Clara felt the strange vibration under their feet where they were standing. It was then they saw the iceberg sailing past them. Joly ran to the railing to get a closer look.

 

Courfeyrac and Prouvaire ran back to the others as soon as they felt the vibration.

 

“Did you guys feel that?!” Henri asked.

 

“There it is!” Joly said pointing to the iceberg. “We must’ve come really close.”

 

Julien had forgotten all about the incident with Joly and Clara. “You don’t suppose it did any serious damage to the ship, do you?” he asked.

 

Joly shrugged his shoulders. “If anything serious has happened, I suppose it would have to have happened down below.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

“What was it, Mr. Murdoch?” Captain Smith asked hastily as he rushed into the bridge.

 

Murdoch looked at Smith grimly and said “An Iceberg sir. I hard-a-starboard and ran the engines astern…but I’m afraid she was too close.”

 

Smith walked slowly to the window. He was still trying to process what Murdoch had just told him.

 

“Stop the engines!” Murdoch ordered. Moody adjusted the levers, and _Titanic_ had stopped.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

The water was nearly up to the men’s waists as they were dragging out the last bits of coal they could salvage.

 

Barrett shoved them both on the shoulders and told them to get out. Bahorel and Grantaire complied, and climbed up the ladder, shortly followed by Barrett.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Feuilly and his bunkmates were awoken abruptly by the loud scrapping noise. Alfred was nearly thrown out of his bed by the shaking in the room. Feuilly hopped out of bed and turned on the light.

 

“What was that?” he asked.

 

Theobold had suggested they had a collision.

 

Wennerstrom suggested one of the propellers dropped a blade. He heard it has happened before.

 

Feuilly was put on his socks and grabbed his clothes to get dressed to find out what’s going on.

He put his clothes on over his pajamas. He went back over to pick up his shoes when his one foot made a *splat* sound.

 

He looked down on the ground, and saw a little puddle.

 

“Did somebody spill a glass of water in here?” he asked.

 

The other three shook their heads. After finishing getting himself dressed, Feuilly opened the door to loud commotion.

 

Every other passenger was out in the hallway, hovering over a very wet floor.

 

What was going on? Did whatever cause that jolt rupture the plumbing? Feuilly ran to the staircase to find out what happened.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

He ran out to the Well Deck. There he saw Combeferre and Eponine looking around. Feuilly was about to ask what happened when he felt something slam against his foot.

 

Another passenger took the chunk of ice and kicked it around, playing a game with his friends.

 

“Ice?” he asked.

 

“We hit an iceberg…” Combeferre said. “About ten minutes ago.”

 

Feuilly looked around at all of the broken ice that was on the deck. “I thought there was a massive leak in the plumbing…”

 

“Leak?!” Eponine asked, worried.

“My bunkmates and I found a puddle of water inside our cabin. I looked outside and all the other men had the same problem. When I left to come back up here, I saw that the hallway floor was wet, and feet were splashing as people ran.”

 

Eponine looked at Combeferre for reassurance. He turned to Feuilly. “Feuilly, do you know how to get to the Aft section of Third Class from here?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“We should get Eponine back to her family. I don’t like the sound of it, but this could be an emergency. Can you get her back?”

 

Eponine looked back at him again. “You’re not going to leave me are you?!”

 

“Don’t worry. I’m only going to go find out up top, the seriousness of the situation. I’ll come back for you.”

 

“No. Either I’m going with you, or you’re coming with me!” Eponine declared. “If anything has happened, I don’t want either of us to be lost trying to find each other in the chaos.”

 

Combeferre thought about it, and realized she was right. He still wasn’t sure of how to get around the ship, so he decided to follow her advice.

 

“Feuilly, go to the Thenadier Cabin. Bring everyone with you. If what you say is true about the water, bring them to the Aft Well Deck, and we’ll go from there. Eponine, you come with me. I’ll see if any of my friends know anything.”

 

Feuilly returned to the door from the Forecastle Deck, and Eponine and Combeferre climbed up the stairs to B-Deck of the First Class Section. They passed up Jack, Thayer’s son, who was conversing with his friend about what happened.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

“Why have we stopped?” Enjolras asked, half asleep when he asked the steward.

 

“I don’t know, sir. There’s talk of an iceberg.” The steward replied before walking away.

 

Enjolras looked around, and didn’t see his roommate anywhere. He hasn’t returned since going to see Eponine at 7…that was almost five hours ago.

 

It was then that he spotted Courfeyrac.

 

Courfeyrac, the fun-loving, outreaching playboy, for the first time in his life, looked gray as a ghost.

 

“Henri, have you seen Franklin? I can’t…what’s the matter?”

 

“We hit an iceberg.”

 

Enjolras’s eyes widened. “From your expression it looks bad.”

 

“We felt the vibration on the Boat Deck…I can’t imagine it would look good.”

 

Meanwhile, several decks below, Grantaire and Bahorel had managed to escape the Boiler Rooms and found themselves in Scotland Road. Only this time, they were surrounded by hundreds of confused and frightened passengers.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Thomas Andrews was pre-occupied with his blueprints of the _Titanic_ , that he didn’t even notice the collision at all, until it was brought to his attention by Officer Moody.

 

He was asked by the Captain if he would go down below decks and inspect the damage.

 

Andrews had returned to the chart house, where Smith was waiting. Several of the Officers had entered. Javert and Lightoller were among the last, having been just woken up by Boxhall.

 

“I’m going to hate myself for being the one to address the situation…I couldn’t even imagine it could happen…”

 

“Go on…” Smith asked.

 

Just then, the silence was interrupted by Ismay’s impatience. “Smith! I demand an explanation! Why have we stopped?!”

 

Smith held up his hand, signaling for Ismay to shut up. “You were saying, Mr. Andrews?”

 

Thomas laid out the blueprint of the ship. It was her profile with drawn out lines representing the compartments.

 

“From what I could observe, the iceberg had made several puncture wounds…starting from the forward peak, going all the way down to Cargo Holds 1 and 2, the Mail Room, Boiler Rooms 6 and 5…that is a collection of gashes extending three-hundred feet, all below the waterline.”

 

“So?!” Ismay scoffed.

 

“That adds up to six compartments flooded…Mr. Ismay.” Andrews emphasized. Ismay rolled his eyes.

 

“If she were to be flooded with three or four compartments…it would be a different story…”

 

“Speak plainly…Mr. Andrews. What are you saying?” Smith said softly.

 

You could hear a needle drop in the room. The silent tension was almost unbearable.

 

“I’m saying that when all is said and done, _Titanic_ will sink.”

 

Everyone looked at each other in shock and disbelief. “But she’s unsinkable!” Ismay protested.

 

“It is a mathematical certainty, Mr. Ismay. The bulkheads only reach E-Deck. Once she starts to go down by the head, the water from Boiler Room 5 will pour over into Boiler Room 4, then into Boiler Room 3 and so on and so forth.”

 

Smith never moved from his stance. “How much time do we have?”

 

“Water has risen at least 14 feet within the first ten minutes. If my calculations are correct, we should remain afloat…for another hour and a half. Two hours if we are lucky.”

 

Captain Smith’s expression never changed, when he turned to his officers.

 

 

“Gentlemen…I have served White Star Line for 32 good years. 25 of them I have served as a Captain. We’ve encountered storms, fogs, small-time incidents…we’ve had that collision with the _Hawke_ while I commanded the _Olympic_.”

 

“But in all that time, I have never had the reason to have expected to say that now, we must prepare to abandon ship.”

 

Ismay continued to look on in disbelief.

 

“Mr. Murdoch, you will muster the passengers and have them proceed to the boat deck with warm clothing and lifejackets.”

 

“Mr. Lightoller, you will uncover the lifeboats, swing them out, and have them loaded with supplies.”

 

“Mr. Wilde, you will call all hands, and have them report to boat stations.”

 

“Mr. Boxhall, you will work out our position, send it to the Wireless Room. Tell the operators to send out a C.Q.D. and to be sure that if any ship picks up our call, they must come immediately to our aid.”

 

“Mr. Pitman and Mr. Javert, you assist Mr. Lightoller at the front end of the Boat Deck. Mr. Lowe and Mr. Moody will assist Mr. Wilde at the stern section.”

 

“You will load the boats with Women and Children first; only allow men if there are no more women and children present. If you are short on hands, allow passenger men volunteers to help row the boats. I don’t care how you do it. But most importantly, gentlemen, there must be absolutely no panic. Carry on.”

 

The officers made their salutes and hustled to their duties.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Combeferre led Eponine up the stairs and onto the Boat Deck. They were about past the second funnel when…

 

_FFFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH!_

They both had to cover their ears from the loud fizzing that came from the funnels.

 

“What the hell?!” Eponine asked. Combeferre leaned in so she could hear him.

 

“They’re probably releasing excess pressure from the boilers.”

 

“Look!” Eponine pointed.

 

Combeferre turned around to see crew members scrambling around the lifeboat davits. They seemed to be detaching the lifeboats from their latches on the boat deck.

 

“We have to regroup with the others.” Combeferre shouted. “Come on!”

 

The two of them ran towards the Aft section.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Marius had slept through the collision, but not the sudden disappearance of the low hum of the engines.

 

He was nearly finished getting dressed when there was a knock on the door.

 

He opened it up and saw it was Mabeuf.

 

“Sorry to disturb you, Master Marius.”

 

“Not at all. What’s happened?”

 

“I’ve just come back from waking your Grandfather. There’s quite some…activity up on the Boat Deck. And it is the Captain’s request that all passengers dress warmly, don their lifejackets, and report to the Boat Deck at once.”

 

Marius brushed past Mabeuf to see what was going on outside. Sure enough there were plenty of Stewards hustling from door to door with the same intent.

 

“You better bring your overcoat.” The Valet said.

 

Marius nodded and opened his closet, and pulled out his coat, scarf and cap. Mabeuf helped him by taking down the lifejacket from the top shelf. Mabeuf opened it up, and slid it over Marius’s head.

 

Mabeuf pulled the strings around Marius’s waist and tied them to keep the lifejacket securely in place.

 

Marius walked over to the mirror to look at himself. His lifejacket was cork filled, with two columns of three squares. “Does it go with the latest style?” he asked Mabeuf with a smirk.

 

He looked at the Valet when he didn’t laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t emphasize the seriousness of what’s happening. The ship is stopped because I heard tell that we’ve struck an iceberg.”

 

Marius’s face dropped. “Should I go to my Grandfather?”

 

“I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

 

Marius nodded and hustled over to Gillenmormand’s stateroom.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Cosette was finishing putting on her long overcoat, and pushed her long hair out, when her door was being knocked.

 

She opened it and it was her father.

 

“Oh good…you’ve heard.”

 

“Yes…a Steward came by and told me to get dressed and put on a lifebelt…”

 

“Good.” Valjean said, before walking past her and going to the closet.

 

“Daddy? Is whatever’s going on, something bad?” Cosette asked.

 

Her father scoffed. “Hardly. It’s simply just a boat drill I’m sure.” He came back with a lifejacket and some spare blankets.

 

“In the middle of the night?”

 

“A very clever stunt from White Star Line. They like to catch us off guard as part of their protocol. This way, their ships can be prepared at any given time.” Valjean explained as he helped Cosette with her lifejacket.

 

“Well I supposed it appears we’ll be a day late getting to New York.” Cosette said softly, trying to make light of the situation.

 

Her father chuckled. “Don’t worry, my dear. When it’s over I’ll permit you to sleep in late this morning.” Cosette tried to laugh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

To say that Feuilly was worried, would be an understatement.

 

When he first left his cabin, the floor just looked wet. When he returned, the water brushed past his shoes.

 

Feuilly ran past all the other passengers as fast as he could. It started to become more crowded as he approached an open area.

 

To his relief, he found the Thenadier family all huddled together, with their warm clothes and lifejackets on.

 

“Feuilly!” Azelma cried before running into his arms.

 

“Is everyone alright?” Feuilly asked while still holding onto Azelma.

 

“Perhaps you should elaborate on alright.” Mr. Thenadier said.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“See for yourself!” Mrs. Thenadier said pointing to the stairs.

 

Feuilly looked up and saw that the passengers that were on it were at a stand-still.

 

In front of them, the gate was locked, and there was a steward trying to keep everyone calm.

 

But he looked nowhere near ready to open the gate to let them through.


	8. LOWER AWAY!

12:24 AM  
MONDAY, APRIL 15th, 1912  
RMS Titanic, Atlantic Ocean  
Latitude: 41° 46' N; Longitude: 50° 14' W

Phillips and Bride couldn’t believe what was happening. They were handed a note from Officer Boxhall with very clear and precise instructions. Break off all traffic, and send out a call for immediate assistance. 

While Bride was changing back into his uniform, Phillips tapped away as fast as he could.

“MGY. CQD. 41 N, 50W. Titanic struck iceberg. Require immediate assistance.”

Phillips continued to tap away until he heard a response. “It’s the Mount Temple. They’re at least…bollocks! They’re 70 miles away.” 

Bride returned from changing. “Any other ships?” 

“The Frankfurt is…150 miles. And the Olympic is…” he paused.

Bride stood there waiting for an answer. “Well?” 

“Nearly 500.” Phillips rubbed his forehead. 

“Wait…” Bride said. “Try sending S.O.S. It’s the new call. Might be your last chance to use it.” He joked.

Phillips nodded in agreement. 

“S.O.S. S.O.S. M.G.Y. Titanic sinking. Come at once!”

12:25 AM  
RMS Carpathia  
60 miles south east of Titanic, bound for the Mediterranean

Wireless Operator Harold Cottam was turning in for the night. He was loosening his tie, when out of mere curiosity, he decided to take one last listen to the radio before going to bed. 

He will spend the rest of his life grateful he did.

He put on his headphones, listened to the rapid beeping. He recognized it as Titanic. 

“M.G.Y. How do you find Cape Race traffic, OM?” he tapped away. His jaw dropped when he stopped to listen to the beeping.

His eyes widened as he wrote down the message. 

“Standby! Message received, S.O.S. telling Captain now!” he tapped before running out of his room.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Captain Arthur Rostron had woken up to the sound of loud banging on the door.

He yanked the door open to find First Officer Dean and the Wireless Operator.

“Bloody hell, Dean! Haven’t you heard of discretion?” he said angrily.

“I’m sorry for the abruptness sir, but we’ve received an urgent message.” Dean said.

Cottam held up the telegram in his hand. “It’s the Titanic. She’s struck a berg. They’re sinking!”

Rostron yanked the telegram from Cottam’s hands. His face slowly grew pale. “Dean…work out a course to this location! Turn the ship around immediately! Head North, Northwest! Full speed ahead!”

“Aye-aye, sir!” Dean said before running off to the bridge.

Rostron turned to Cottam. “Are you certain this is Titanic?” 

“Yes sir. They’ve used C.Q.D. and S.O.S. Her wireless operator reports they’ve only an hour or two.” 

“Check with them, find out as much as you can. And tell them we are coming as fast as we humanly can!” Rostron ordered. Cottam ran back to the Wireless Room. 

 

12:30 AM  
RMS Titanic  
Bridge

Captain Smith was standing on the Port Wing of the bridge, when Bride came rushing towards him.

“Sir, we’ve picked up the Carpathia. They’re making every attempt to get here as fast as they can. They’re plowing ahead at 17 knots.” 

“How far away is she?” Smith asked.

Bride’s face faltered, as he read from the paper. “58 miles. They should be able to reach us within four hours.” 

Smith looked to the side, and then pointed towards the horizon. “There’s a ship over there, 10 miles away. What about her?” 

“I don’t know sir. We’re not getting a response from them. Either she’s shut down for the night, or doesn’t have wireless, sir.” 

Smith looked through his binoculars. “Thank you Bride.” 

Officer Boxhall came to Smith’s side ready for new orders. 

“Mr. Boxhall. Break out the distress signals. Fire one every five or six minutes from this side.” 

“Aye-aye, sir.” 

As Boxhall went to get a Quartermaster to help him, Lightoller and Javert jogged over to the Captain.

“The lifeboats on the Port side are swung out, sir. Ready to fill.” Lightoller reported.

“Good…now remember. Women and Children first, and when you can’t see anymore, allow men volunteers.” 

“Aye-aye sir.” The two saluted before hustling off. Boxhall came back. “Sir, we don’t have any red flares. Only white.” 

Smith cursed under his breath. “Very well…fire them all nonetheless.” 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Combeferre and Eponine hustled back to the aft boat deck, where they saw Joly, Lesgles, and Clara standing there.

“You saw what happened?!” Joly asked Combeferre.

“Yeah…it came so close…some chunks fell off and I almost got clubbed to death by them.” 

“We felt the vibration from here…it must’ve done a lot of damage.” Clara replied. 

Just then, the five of them heard a loud fizzing sound coming from the front of the ship. 

They turned around to just in time to see something explode in the air. 

“That’s a rocket…” Clara muttered. “We use them to alert other ships in the area…” 

Julien looked at the excess of the flares as they fell back down. “This can’t be good.” 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Hmm…” Officer Stone said as he looked through the binoculars at the ship that was in the distance. “Looks like they just fired a rocket…now why would they do that?”

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Marius was standing idle at the foot of the Grand Staircase. His Grandfather told him to wait there. 

Cosette walked alongside her father. Marius greeted them both. “I’ve heard talk of an iceberg. Is it true, sir?” He asked Valjean. 

“That’s the talk that seems to be running around everywhere.” Valjean replied.

They were greeted by Gillenormand. The two elderly gentlemen were engaged in conversation about White Star procedures, when Marius and Cosette chanced to spot Thomas Andrews sitting on a chair facing the stairs. 

Marius approached Andrews and knelt down to meet his level. “Mr. Andrews? May we have a word?” 

He looked up at the two of them with sadness in his eyes. 

“We’re not the panicking kind of people. You’re the only one we feel knows the most of the situation, and I would appreciate it if we were made aware of whatever it is.”  
Andrews didn’t say a word. Instead, he took out his notebook, flipped to a blank page, and drew an impromptu profile of the ship. Marius and Cosette looked carefully at the drawing.

They noticed he drew the ship at a slight angle on the page. It wasn’t until he drew a wavy line across it, indicating water, that they realized it was deliberately drawn at an angle.

Marius and Cosette looked at each other in shock. Then Cosette turned to Andrews. “How long do we have?” 

Andrews looked up at the clock. “Less than two hours by now…” 

He then stood up to face them. 

“Miss Fauchelevant, do not waste time, you must get to a Lifeboat quickly.” 

And with that, he hustled off. 

Gillenormand observed the whole thing. He knew something was wrong when he looked at the staircase and saw that it was tilting towards the front of the ship.

“Marius…” he said to his grandson. “You go on upstairs. I have something to take care of.” And he and Mabeuf walked back to his stateroom’s direction. 

“There’s definitely something strange with him…he’s been very distant these past few days…” Marius said. “It’s strange because we already made amends.” 

Cosette touched his arm. “Better do what he says. We’ll meet him at the Boat Deck.” 

The three of them proceeded up the staircase.

 

12:40 AM  
Starboard Boat Deck  
Officer Murdoch began to see small clusters of people walking out onto the Boat Deck. 

“Uh, this way, ladies and gentlemen, if you can please step this way.” He signaled for them to come to him. 

“Alright, if I can have the women and children please step into the lifeboat?” He directed.

Some of the passengers stayed where they were. Some backed away. “Why do we need to board lifeboats in the middle of the night?” 

“It’s only a precautionary measure, ma’am. I must insist that women and children step into the lifeboat immediately. Captain’s orders.”

Some of the women shrugged their shoulders. One husband said to his wife “Maybe the Captain will explain to us when we get back on board.” 

One woman scoffed “If he lets us back onboard without a pass.” The passengers laughed. 

Soon a few of the women began to approach the lifeboat. Murdoch and a couple of Quartermasters had assisted them in stepping in. The women were not used to stepping on swinging platforms so they were a little shocked. 

Among those that boarded were Silent Film Actress Dorothy Gibson and her mother.

After seeing that no one else would enter, he asked for men volunteers to help row the boat.   
After receiving some, Murdoch saw that everyone else was staying put on deck. 

He signaled for the Quartermasters to unfasten the pulley ropes attached to the lifeboats via the davits. 

“Ready on the davits?” Murdoch said loudly. “Aye.” Both Quartermasters answered.

Murdoch held his hands up to direct the two men. “Lower away!” And then the two men slowly inched the ropes forward, lowering the boat inch by inch. 

Lifeboat #7 was the first to be launched. It had a capacity of sixty-five people. It left with only twenty-eight. 

 

12:43 AM  
Lifeboat #5

Officer Pitman was overseeing the loading of Boat #5. He was soon assisted by Officer Lowe. After seeing that the passengers were done boarding this one, Murdoch approached the two Officers. 

“Mr. Pitman, you will man this boat.” Murdoch said. 

Pitman patted Murdoch on the shoulder. “Aye, sir. Good luck to you.” And then he boarded the lifeboat and took charge at the rudder.

“Lower away!” Officer Lowe ordered. 

Ismay approached this boat. He began to grasp the situation, and rushed the davits.   
“Come on! Lower away!” 

This aggravated Lowe. “If you get the hell out of the way, I might be able to do something!”

“You’re not lowering fast enough!” 

“You want me to lower away quickly?! You’ll have me drown the lot of them!” Lowe answered back. 

Ismay stepped back…feeling humiliated. 

Lowe returned to lowering the boat, which only carried thirty-six.

A few minutes after Boat #5 was lowered, Boat #3 was being loaded. This boat was lowered away with only thirty-two passengers and crew.

12:50 AM  
Third Class Hallway

“Everyone, please stay calm! The boats are not ready yet.” The stewards who were guarding the gate continued to urge the passengers to keep themselves under control. But the passengers weren’t having any of it.

“There’s women and children down here! Can’t you let at least them through?!” Mr. Thenadier shouted.

“We will open the gate once we are given orders!” 

“We’ll be on the bottom of the ocean floor by then!” Feuilly protested. Everyone looked at him in shock. Feuilly had thought that everyone knew by then. 

Some of the Passengers started to panic and started charging the gate, shaking it, rattling it, trying to shove it open.

“Come on!” Thenadier called to his family and Feuilly. “There’s gotta be another way.” 

The five of them shoved past the people and broke free of the crowd. They approached a steel door when it swung wide open.

Bahorel, Grantaire and Barrett came out, wet and covered in soot.

“Wait! You men work on this ship?!” Feuilly asked desperately.

“Aye, but what difference does it make? The ship’s bloody sinking!” Grantaire responded.  
“You know a way out of here?” Azelma pleaded. “They won’t let us out of here!” 

Bahorel looked behind the family, and saw the passengers were kept below because of the gate.

“Alright, follow us!” he said.

So Feuilly and the Thenadiers followed the three firemen down the hallway. Barrett opened another steel door. “Here, climb up this spiral staircase until you reach C-Deck!” 

The group climbed up as fast as they could go.

When they reached C-Deck, Barrett led the group out the door, and they found themselves on the Well Deck. 

Feuilly ran to the railing to where the ice had struck. He was shocked to see the water at a higher level than when he last stood here.

“Come on! This way!” Barrett said, running to the stairs. 

12:55 AM  
Port Side Deck

Officers Lightoller and Javert were supervising the loading of the boats on the port side.

Whereas Murdoch was a little more lenient and followed the rule of “Women and Children First”, Lightoller was a little stricter, and insisted on “Women and Children Only”. 

Marius, Cosette and Valjean were nearby the entrance to the Grand staircase. 

They observed as Mr. Isador Straus was standing with his wife Ida were approaching Boat #8.

Javert approached them. “It’s alright, Mr. Straus, you can step in with your wife.” 

“No…I will stay behind. Take your place, Ida.” 

“Have your senses left you? I am not leaving you behind!” Mrs. Straus objected.

“Ida, please!” 

“We have been together for forty years, Isador. Where you go, I go.” She turned to Javert. “I will not be separated from my husband.” 

Javert urged. “I’m sure no one would object to an old gentleman like Mr. Straus going into a boat. Please, I insist!” 

“I will not go before the other men!” Isador protested. 

Officer Javert reluctantly nodded, and stepped away to help other women and children into the boat. 

The Countess of Rothes stepped in next. When Javert saw that the boat was short-handed, he asked for a volunteer to take the rudder. The Countess offered, and stood by the rudder.

Cosette turned to Marius. “I suppose it’s a good thing we’re not married…” 

“Why?” 

“I have no right to refuse to leave you behind…” She smiled. Marius could see her eyes begin to water. 

Valjean went to the two. “Come on. The next boat is beginning to load now.” 

Boat #8 was lowered away with only twenty-eight people.

 

12:58 AM  
Promenade Deck

The group from down below reached the promenade deck. Barrett turned to the others.   
“The Boat Deck is just upstairs. You guys should be safe now.”

Thenadier grabbed Barrett’s hand. “Ta, very much, lad. You’re a good man.”

Bahorel turned to Grantaire. “We should split up; see if there’s anything we can do to help.” 

Grantaire embraced his friend. “Good luck to ya, mate.” Bahorel ran off to the Port side, and Grantaire climbed up the Starboard Boat Deck stairs, following Barrett.

Feuilly and the Thenadiers ended up following Bahorel along the Port side of the deck. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“What’s taking Feuilly so long?!” Eponine asked.

“I don’t know…he could’ve gotten caught up in the confusion.” Combeferre tried to reassure her.   
“Eponine!” Azelma shouted.

Eponine looked over, and saw her family running towards her. “Oh my god! Are you all alright?!” she cried as she ran into her parents’ arms.

“We’re fine. We’re all here.” Thenadier said, trying to calm Eponine down. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, we’re fine.” Combeferre said. 

“Frank!” Enjolras called out as he exited from the staircase.

“James! You okay?” Combeferre asked embracing his friend.

“Define ‘okay’? There’s pure pandemonium occurring down below! The ship is at an angle, and just on our deck, I could’ve sworn I saw the lights flickering!” 

“Calm down, James. First things first, we have to get the women into a boat.” 

“I’m staying with you, Franklin!” Eponine protested.

“That may be easier said than done.” Julien said. “I overheard the officer. They won’t allow men on this side.” 

“What about the other side?” Joly asked.

“If we hurry, maybe we can catch one!” Courfeyrac suggested. 

The group hustled over to the Starboard side, into the heart of the crowd once disbelieving, now growing with concern.

1:05 AM  
Starboard Deck  
Grantaire looked around on deck. He was standing by as Lifeboat #1 was being loaded. There were at least 5 passengers. Among them were Lord and Lady Duff Gordon.

“Can I help, Officer?” he asked Murdoch. 

“Yes, we need men to help row the boat.” Murdoch commanded. Grantaire stepped into the boat with no objection. 

As soon as he sat down, he saw six more crewmen rush to the lifeboat.

“Where’s everyone else?” Grantaire asked.

“Stern section probably. All the boats on this side have been lowered. Only this one and the Collapsible boats left.” Murdoch said.

Duff Gordon sat up properly and said “Well, that’s good enough for me. Lower away.” 

“Are you daft, man? We’ve plenty of space in here!” Grantaire objected. 

“Officer, be a good man and lower this boat immediately!” Lady Duff Gordon exclaimed.

Murdoch looked around, and there was no one else nearby that could board the boat. He turned to the helmsman of the lifeboat. “Stay near the ship if you can. Be ready to turn back and receive more passengers from the gangways.” He said.

“Aye, sir!” the helmsman saluted.

“Lower away!”

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Combeferre, Eponine, Feuilly, Azelma and Enjolras ran ahead of the group to see where they could board. They stopped to see Lifeboat #1 halfway down the hull.

“There’s only about twelve in there!” Feuilly pointed out.

“I spoke with a gentleman the other day…” Combeferre reflected on his conversation with Lawrence Beesley. “That kind of a boat could take forty!”

“Are any of these boats even being filled up?!” Eponine asked, outraged.

“If they’re going to lower them…” Enjolras scoffed. “They might as well put people in them!” 

 

1:10 AM  
Port Boat Deck

“Come along, ladies! We can’t pick and choose a boat!” Lightoller shouted. 

Margaret Brown was helping some of the more frightened women into Lifeboat #6. “Don’t worry, ladies. It’ll be like taking a little yachting trip. Did I ever tell you about the time…” she was trying to calm the ladies down.

Marius walked Cosette over to stand in line. 

“I’m sure we’ll get help. Maybe you’ll only have to be out in the water for a few minutes before a freighter picks you up.” Marius smiled.

Cosette faked a laugh to hide her real emotions. “What an awful substitute.” 

“Cosette…” Marius began. “If…we get off on different boats…if you don’t see me after a while…”

“Stop…Marius.” Cosette interrupted him. “I know what you’re thinking. But don’t say it…please. I won’t be able to get in this boat if we part on that thought…”

Marius nodded. “I agree…it’s difficult enough for me to watch you go…”

“Just as difficult as it is for me to watch you stay behind?” Cosette asked, with tears forming down her cheeks.

“Cosette, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make it out of this. I will do whatever it takes…” Marius said.

He put a hand on her cheek. “But if somehow, I do not make it, heaven forbid…I want you to forget about me…”

“What?!” 

“We’ve only known each other for a few days…they were by far the best of my life. But if I don’t make it, what good would it be for you to grieve over me?”

“You’re talking as if you’re already dead!” Cosette cried. “How can I not grieve for you, Marius?! You’ve done things to me that make me question everything I’ve ever known about life, and love! You’ve made me feel something that no man has ever accomplished before. How can I possibly hope to move on from that if you’re dead?!” She burst into tears. Marius pulled her in for a hug. 

“Shh…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to upset you…that’s the last thing I want to do.” He said holding her tight. 

He then pulled her away to face him. “I’ll do all that I can to survive this. Then…when we’re on that freighter, or fishing boat…I’ll disembark with you in New York. I don’t care what my grandfather says.” 

Cosette wiped her tears away. “Just make sure you survive, please!” she smiled.

Marius grabbed her face and kissed her on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him tight.

“You’re next, miss.” Javert said, nudging Cosette on the arm.

Marius reluctantly let her go, so that the officer could escort her into the lifeboat. 

“Hey! Take your damn hands off of me! Captain Smith will hear about…oof!” Mrs. Brown shouted as she was being shoved into the boat.

“Mrs. Brown?” Marius called out to her.

She looked up. “Why Mister Marius! I’m downright outraged they won’t let you board! I’ll have a word with White Star about this! They can’t keep my little darling away from me!” she said cheerfully. 

“Mrs. Brown, Miss Fauchelevant is seated with you…” Marius said. “Will you do something for me?” 

“Oh anything for you darling!” Mrs. Brown said.

“Just look after her for me? Comfort her?” Marius asked.

Mrs. Brown looked at the two of them. “Of course darling, don’t you worry! She’ll be safe and snug with me faster than the Colorado River on a rainy day!” 

Marius thanked her and then backed away from the edge. 

“Miss! Miss Cosette!” Mabeuf shouted before making his way to the edge of the deck.

“Women and children only!” Javert said, standing in Mabeuf’s way. 

“I only wish to give her a letter! You have my word!” 

Javert let him through, keeping an eye on him. 

“Miss Fauchelevant?” Mabeuf approached Cosette. “I have been instructed to deliver this letter to you, and advise you not to open it until you are safely aboard another ship. Compliments of his Lordship.” He said, referring to Gillenormand.

Cosette silently nodded.

“We need two men to row the boat!” Lightoller called out. 

Quartermaster Hitchens was at the helm of the boat.

“I can row sir!” Lookout Fleet volunteered.  
“Fine. Get in! Anyone else?” 

“I can go…if you want.” First Class Passenger Major Arthur Peuchen stepped up.

“Are you a sailor?” Lightoller asked.

“I’m a yachtsman.” Peuchen replied.

“Then get on in. You can help row the boat.” 

“Thank you, sir!” The Major said before stepping into the boat.

“Lower away!”

Just like the past few boats, Lifeboat #6 only left with twenty-eight aboard.

Mabeuf walked over to Valjean, who put his hand on his shoulder and nodded silently.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“That’s the fourth rocket they’ve fired, sir.” Claquesous reported to Officer Stone.

“Hmm…I think I’ll tell the Captain.” He said, before picking up the mouthpiece of the tube, and blowing into it.

“What now?” Captain Lord’s voice groaned.

“That ship in the distance, sir. She’s firing rockets. Four up to now.”

“So what? Are they private signals?”

“We don’t know, sir. All we know is they’re white. Perhaps they’re signaling to other ships about the ice.”

“Well try the lamp again. Let me know if you get a response.”   
   
“Aye-aye, sir.” Stone said before hanging up. He went over to the equipment chest and pulled out the Morse Lamp.

“Hmm…that’s weird…” Claquesous said looking through his binoculars. “It looks as if that ship is listing.” 

Stone shook his head. “She’s just positioned in a different angle than us.” He set the lamp on the railing and started flashing out a message.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Officer Boxhall looked through his binoculars. Quartermaster Rowe who had been working the rockets walked over to him. 

“Anything, sir?” 

“No…nothing. It looks like they’re sending a signal via Morse lamp…but I can’t make sense of it. They’re too far away.” 

Rowe shrugged his shoulders. “Could be a mast-head light flickering.” 

Boxhall took a deep breath and muttered “Damn their eyes!”. 

 

1:25 AM  
Port Boat Deck

By now, there was definitely a list towards the bow, and people were beginning to panic after noticing the angle on deck. 

Lightoller, Lowe, and Javert were trying to keep the passengers from rushing the lifeboat with some crewmen. 

“Stay back, you lot! Keep order!” The officers shouted. 

Some of the passengers were ready to charge the crew. One had managed to get past them, but Lowe pulled out his revolver and fired three shots in the air.

“Try that again, and this is what you’ll get!” Lowe shouted. Some of the people started to quiet down.

“Mr. Lowe, take charge of this boat. We’ll take care of the rest.” Lightoller ordered.

Lifeboat #14 was lowering away, with a slightly larger capacity of fifty-eight inhabitants.


	9. The Final Plunge

1:30 AM  
Monday, April 15th, 1912  
RMS Carpathia, 45 miles southeast of Titanic’s position

Captain Rostron paced back and forth on the deck. He looked at the clock every five or six minutes, but it still wasn’t making the ship go any faster.

“Mr. Dean…” he called for his First Officer. “Get all hands on deck. Here’s what I need done before we reach the coordinates.” 

“Disconnect all of our lifeboats, and swing out the davits. Open up every gangway door, attach rope ladders to each door. Have mail sacks and canvas slings ready to transfer small children, and sick or injured survivors.”

“Aye-aye, sir.” Dean replied. 

Rostron turned to his chief steward. “Have the dining staff prepare hot soup, and coffee; we need barrels worth of them ready when the survivors reach us. Round up every spare blanket and distribute them to each gangway door. Have the dining rooms and smoke rooms prepared as dormitories.”

“Aye-aye sir.” 

“Oh, one more thing.” Rostron said before the Chief Steward walked away. “There’s a good chance we will encounter some hysterics. Have a good twenty deck chairs brought inside, equipped with heavy restraints.” He paused a moment. “Go to the Doctor…see to some ice in canvas bags. They’ll be needed for the dead.” 

“Iceberg ahead sir!” an officer said. 

“Starboard 2 points, maintain speed.” 

Rostron could see the look of concern in everyone’s eyes. “She’s expected to sink within the hour, gentlemen. Otherwise I would take more caution. We cannot afford taking our time.” 

He took one more look at the clock. “Quartermaster!” he called out. “Cut off all heat, and hot water. Cut whatever you have to. But we’ve got to have every ounce of steam we can access routed to the Engines! I’ll muster the passengers and explain to them myself. Given the circumstances…I’m sure they can stand a little cold.” 

Rostron turned his gaze back to the front of the ship. 

“One more thing…gentlemen. Let us pray for them. They’ll need all the strength they can get.”

1:35 AM  
RMS Titanic, Starboard Deck

“Women and children first! Men, please stand by!” Murdoch shouted. 

Eponine was led by Combeferre to Lifeboat #13. “I’ll be right behind you.” He said to her. 

At first, Eponine would’ve been relieved to know that he would’ve been allowed to board.

But as soon as she approached the gap between the deck and the lifeboat, she froze.

“Eponine…” Combeferre said. “Don’t look down! Just take one step…”

“…no…I can’t! Too…high…can’t” she stumbled on her words. It was then Combeferre knew she was hyperventilating. 

“Please…don’t! I can’t…” she mumbled. Combeferre took her to the side and held her tight. By now she was crying. 

“Shh…it’s ok. It’s ok. I’m here!” he said, as he was stroking her hair. 

“The heights got her too?” Feuilly asked. “Azelma and Gavroche won’t board either.” He explained.

“Lower away!” Murdoch shouted. Eponine’s breathing started to become more controlled.

“We should return back to the front end. There may be a collapsible or two still remaining.” Combeferre suggested. 

Bahorel ran over to them. “Better make it quick! Everyone else is getting the same idea!” 

“Well there’s four collapsibles…” Combeferre said. “If they’re already loading up the first two, it’ll still take them a few minutes to get the others ready. We should head over there now!” he told everyone else.

“STOP LOWERING!” They heard a scream from down below. 

Combeferre and Enjolras rushed over to the railing to see what was happening. “Jesus Christ!” Enjolras gasped.

Down below, as Lifeboat #13 touched the water, the gush of water that was being discharged from the hull, had pushed the boat backwards, putting it directly in the path of Lifeboat #15’s descent.

Fireman Barrett was struggling to cut the pulley ropes holding #13 in place. The strain of being stuck under #15’s hull made it more difficult. 

Lawrence Beesley took an oar, raised it up and shoved it against #15 to push it away.

At the very last moment, #13 was safely away. 

“We need to move. Now!” Bahorel said to everyone. 

Mr. Thenadier took off his lifejacket and put it on Combeferre. “Here, you take it!” His wife did the same for Eponine. “No, please!” They protested.

“Don’t you youngsters worry about us. Our own buoyancies will keep us afloat!” Mrs. Thenadier said, referring to her and her husband’s chubbiness. 

The group hustled down the boat deck, straight into the heart of pandemonium. 

They tried to shuffle past everyone else. Amidst the chaos and confusion, they became separated.

Combeferre kept a firm grip on Eponine’s hand as they made their way to the Compass Tower, that stood right in the middle of the boat deck between the second and third funnel. 

“Where’s everyone?!” Eponine asked, with regards to their family. 

“They probably got caught up in the crowd…don’t worry. We’ll find them sooner or later!” 

 

1:39 AM  
Bridge

Quartermaster Rowe lit the fuse on the rocket before it shot up into the air.

He went over to Officer Boxhall and Captain Smith. “That’s the last of the rockets, sir.” 

Smith looked over on the horizon. “And they still have not responded?”

Boxhall shook his head. “What I wouldn’t give to have a cannon ready by now…” 

“Mr. Boxhall…report to Mr. Lightoller. Quartermaster, report to Mr. Murdoch…your duties are done here.” Smith ordered.

Boxhall and Rowe looked at each other, then saluted the captain before running off.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

J. Bruce Ismay was helping women and children into Collapsible C which was attached to the same davits that held Lifeboat #1 not too long ago.

Feuilly, Azelma, Gavroche, Lesgles, Joly and Clara tried to shuffle through the crowd as they reached the line for the boat. 

Feuilly had spotted Mrs. Goldsmith and Frank Jr. “Frankie!” he called out. “Where’s Alfred?”

Mrs. Goldsmith turned to him. “He just turned sixteen this afternoon…” she said somberly.

“What happened?” Feuilly asked.

“The steward wouldn’t let men through. I had to leave my husband behind…Tom gave me his wedding ring to give to his wife…and Alfred refused to leave…saying that he was a man too now…” 

Feuilly looked down at his feet. Alfred was no older than him…

As Feuilly was helping the Goldsmiths into the Collapsible, Julien turned to Clara.

“That’s your queue. Go. Take a spot here. I’ll get in the next one. I promise.” Julien said.

“Julien…” she began.

“Don’t worry about what happened before…It doesn’t matter. Just get in. Please!” 

Ismay motioned for Clara to follow. She was helped up into the boat. Julien leaned over to her from the railing. 

“If I don’t come out of this…don’t think harshly of me.” He begged her.

“I couldn’t do that if I wanted to. I spoke to Joly before because I wanted to take you up on your offer…” she said bluntly.

Julien’s heart pounded. He could hear the crewmen shouting for the men to stand back. Thinking quickly, he took Clara’s face in his hands and kissed her. 

“I’ll come find you later.” He smiled. 

Clara nodded, and when he walked away, she touched her own lips, savoring the embrace. 

 

“We’ve space for one more!” Murdoch shouted.

Feuilly and Azelma were about to usher Gavroche through, when a man shoved past them. “Sounds good to me!” he said.

Murdoch stood flabbergasted as Ismay made his way to step into the lifeboat. 

“Hey! English Dog! We’ve got a child here! Move your arse out of there!” Azelma cried out.

“Don’t bother, Azelma. He ain’t worth it. Besides…I stay with my sister!” Gavroche said, hugging Azelma tight. 

Murdoch reluctantly gave the order to lower away. Quartermaster Rowe stood at the helm.

“Come on…” Feuilly said. “Let’s try the other side.” 

1:50 AM  
Port Side

“Sir, Captain’s told me to report to you, sir.” Boxhall said to Javert. 

“We’ve plenty to manage here; you take charge of this boat.” Javert ordered.

“Aye-aye, sir!” Boxhall said before stepping into Lifeboat #2.

“Lower away!” Javert shouted.

Combeferre and Eponine were running down the Boat Deck, only to be stopped by a large crowd of panicking people that weren’t moving an inch.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Because of a delay in loading, Boat #4 was among the last to be filled. The crew lowered the boat down to the Promenade Deck, so that the passengers may board through the windows.

“My wife is in a delicate condition…may I accompany her please?” Colonel Astor said, referring to his wife’s pregnancy.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Lightoller sympathized. “No men are allowed on this boat or any of the boats, until all the women have gone.” 

Astor nodded, then asked for the number of this boat.

“Four, sir.” Lightoller replied.  
Astor helped his young wife squeeze through the window. When she sat down, he took off his gloves and gave them to her. “Give them back when we next meet!” he said, smiling.

Mrs. Astor put on the gloves and waved back at him.

Just then, a woman with a young man approached the boat.

“Wait, he can’t go! It’s women and children only!” 

“Of course he can go!” A man said behind the woman. “He’s only thirteen!” 

Lightoller sighed then said “No more boys!” 

Mrs. Carter stood close enough to hear that. She took off her hat quickly and placed it on her son Billy’s head. She, Billy and her daughter Lucy, boarded the boat without difficulties.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

On the deck above, Collapsible D was being loaded up. 

Eponine and Combeferre could both see clearly, that there wasn’t going to be any room for her by the time they reached the boat.

They were about the second to last to approach, before Officer Moody stopped the first two women. 

“Sorry, we’ve only room for one more lady.” He said.

The first woman offered for the other to step in. “You go ahead, you’ve children waiting for you at home! I insist.” 

“Look, Eponine.” Combeferre said, pointing towards the 1st Funnel. “Up there is the last Collapsible. We’ll go over to the Officer over there, and we’ll ask if we can help. Maybe we’ll get first access to the seats.” He said, trying to reassure her. 

Eponine slowly nodded. She was still worried about her family. Combeferre could see the worry.

“They’ll be alright. Your family is strong, and they’ve pushed through hardships before. I have faith in them.” He smiled to her. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Thenadier were sitting on a bench further aft of the Boat Deck. They’ve given up hope on trying to find everyone amidst the panic and mayhem.

They could hear violins being played next to them. It was the ship’s band. They had come out on deck to perform in order to calm the passengers. 

“Music to drown by…” Thenadier scoffed. 

Mrs. Thenadier held tight onto her husband’s arm. “Brian…do you think the children are safe?” 

“Franklin and the Polish kid are very protective of them. If God forbid they get separated, those two will find them with no problems at all.” 

His wife smiled. He looked at her and said “If the people clear out over there, then we’ll go over to see if they’re still on deck.” 

She nodded, before looking back to the band. “We never did have a proper wedding dance.” 

He smiled and took his hand in hers. The two of them stood up, and walked over to the orchestra leader.

“Can you take requests, governor?” Thenadier asked.

Their leader, Wallace Hartley turned to them and replied. “This is a pleasant surprise. We didn’t think anyone would listen to us.” He smiled. “What would you like?” 

“What would you recommend for a wedding dance?” 

“Well, there is the very one, by I. Salonisti.” Hartley then turned to his musicians and they began playing the music. 

Thenadier turned to his wife and led her to a waltz. 

“You seem to be quite at peace with everything, Brian…” 

Thenadier smiled and said “It helps to distract me from the opposite.” 

Mrs. Thenadier stopped hearing the panicked voices around her. All she could see was her husband, and all she could hear was the music. It was like they were getting married all over again. She sighed and rested her head against his chest.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

“Excuse me, Officer?” Combeferre asked Javert. “Is there any way we can help?” 

“Yes! We’re about to launch the last two collapsibles now.” Javert said, pointing by the funnel.

Lightoller ran up the stairs from the Promenade. “The last lifeboat has been launched. We won’t have time to connect them to davits. We’ll have to just let them float off as she goes down…”

Combeferre looked at Eponine, and she understood that no matter what happens, that would be their chance to get to the lifeboat. 

“These two have volunteered their services for this task.” Javert said, pointing to the two passengers. 

“Good. I’ve got three more. Two boys and a girl. We’ll need all the help we can get!” Lightoller said, climbing up the ladder to the collapsible’s roof.

“Azelma! Gavroche! What happened?” Eponine said.

“We couldn’t get into the last boat. Some English bastard shoved past Gavroche and took the seat for himself.”

“We can prosecute him later.” Combeferre said. “Let’s help the officers!” 

The five of them climbed up after Lightoller and Javert. They were already removing the covers off of the boat. 

Lightoller pointed to two long wooden boards. “Alright, we’re going to set these boards down, and form a ramp. You two…” he pointed to Combeferre and Feuilly. “Will set the ramps down so that one end touches the edge of the roof, and the other is set down on deck.”

“Then it will take all of us to slide this boat down the ramp. Alright?!” 

Everyone nodded. “Good. Let’s get to it!”

While Azelma, Gavroche and Eponine were busy unfastening the lines, Combeferre and Feuilly laid down the board ramps.

Azelma and Eponine kept a firm grasp on the lines, as Feuilly and Combeferre ran over to the same side of the boat as everyone else. 

“Now inch it forward!” Lightoller said, guiding the team as they pushed the boat towards the edge.

“Easy…easy…” he said. They were near the edge, about to have it slide down. “Hold it…HOLD IT!” He shouted. 

Combeferre lost his footing, slipped, and watched as Collapsible B leaned over too far, flipped over and landed on deck upside down, sending the passengers scurrying away. 

“Officer, we don’t have much time! My friends and I will try to right this boat up. The other collapsible needs loosening, right?” Combeferre asked.

Lightoller nudged him on the arm. “Thanks, son. You tend to that.” Lightoller then signaled for Javert to follow him. 

Combeferre, Feuilly, Eponine, Azelma, and Gavroche climbed back down to the Boat Deck. Most of the passengers have begun to flee the area. Feuilly understood why:

The Forecastle Deck was barely visible, beneath the waves…the water was now approaching the Promenade Deck.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Marius struggled against the tilt of the deck as he climbed towards the stern. He was near the Second Class Entrance when he saw the Allison family.

“Mrs. Allison! I would’ve thought you’d be away by now!” 

“My baby…Alice has my baby…I don’t know where they’ve gone! We’ve searched everywhere, but I can’t find him!” Mrs. Allison cried. She was holding Little Lorraine in her arms. 

Marius looked at them, and then continued the steep climb. 

Just in front of him, he could see Jack Thayer talking again with his friend. They seemed to wish each other luck as they both jumped into the water together. 

“My god…” Marius said, leaning over to railing. He didn’t realize how high up in the air he was. 

The propellers were well out of the water by now. Any doubts as to whether or not the ship would survive the night were long gone.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Aboard the Carpathia, Cottam was writing down a message while he was listening carefully.

“Engine room flooded…we are sinking fast…cannot last much longer…” 

He squeezed his headphones tight, to see if he could pick anything else up. All he got was a fizzing sound.

Aboard the Titanic, Phillips tapped away furiously. Bride looked at him and said “The power’s almost gone.” 

Phillips stopped tapping. Captain Smith entered the room. “Well, Phillips?” 

“Carpathia’s coming as fast as she can. Meanwhile, the Olympic, being the grand bloody sister ship that she is, wanted to know if we’re steaming south to meet her. And the Frankfurt keeps asking for more damned details! I swear, I’m communicating with a majority of idiots!” Phillips said, exasperated. 

Captain Smith nodded, and put his hand on Phillips’s shoulder. “Just as well…it’s time to go now. You two have done your duty; you can do no more. Abandon your cabin. Look after yourselves now. I release you.” And with that, he walked out the door. 

Phillips returned his gaze at the radio. He put his headphones down for the last time, before he heard Bride shout. “Hey you! Hands off!” 

Phillips turned around to see Bride fighting with a stoker, trying to get a hold of one of their lifejackets. Phillips responded by grabbing the stoker and punching him in the face, knocking him out cold.

Bride and Phillips looked at each other, then ran out of the Wireless Room, lifejackets in hand.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

In the Smoking Room, Gillenormand sat quietly on a sofa nearby the fireplace. He sat across Benjamin Guggenheim, who was accompanied by his own Valet. 

“You’ve seen to Madame Aubert?” 

“Yes. And I’ve asked her…in the event that I should not be among the survivors…I’ve asked her to tell my wife that I have dressed in my best clothes…that I was prepared to go down like a gentleman…and above all, that I’ve behaved decently.” Guggenheim responded.

Gillenormand nodded. “Should make a lovely story for her to tell her friends.” 

He then turned to Mabeuf. “You’ve seen to Miss Fauchelevant?” 

“Yes, sir. And I’ve picked up Mr. Fauchelevant’s letter as well. They’re both with the lady.” 

“Good…everything should be settled then…Mabeuf, I suppose now I should release you of your obligation. If I were you, I would go and save myself.” 

Mabeuf looked silently at Gillenormand. “I…thank you, sir. I’ll look for Marius. Shall I tell him…?” 

“No. It would be better that he did not know until after it is done.” 

Mabeuf silently nodded, and then hustled out of the Smoking Room, nearly tripping from the steep angle. 

Guggenheim and Gillenormand were met by Andrews…who walked over to the fireplace, staring at the painting on the wall. 

“Mr. Andrews…won’t you make a try for it?” Gillenormand asked.

Andrews did not respond…he continued to stare into space.

Guggenheim took another sip from his glass of brandy. “You know, Gillenormand…” he began. “I had a friend back in the states, who was a very handy man. In fact, he assisted Henry Ford in the creation of the motor car. Built the very first prototype…come to think of it.”

“Then one day, unfortunately, he crashed the car into a tree. He refused assistance. He refused medical aid…it was pretty bad…but he would not allow himself to be saved.”

“I was there when he lay dying on the side of the street, refusing to be taken out of the car. I’ll never forget what he said to me.”

“He said that he has stayed with his car right from it’s very conception…and it’s only fair to the car that he stays with it until the end. He owes her that much.” Guggenheim said, before shifting his eyes over to Andrews.

And at last, Gillenormand understood what he meant.

He could hear the loud creaking of the hull as it continued to rise higher out of the water.

He closed his eyes and said “God on high, hear my prayer. Let him live…Bring Him Home.” 

 

2:10 AM  
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Be very wary of the action that takes place here. It is very fast-paced; you might miss a moment or two.

As Combeferre and his team were struggling to get their boat right side up, Lightoller and his crew were trying to release Collapsible A.

Among those that stayed to help were Prouvaire, Colonel Astor and the Wireless Operators. 

Captain Smith picked up his megaphone and shouted at the top of his lungs:

“ABANDON SHIP! BE BRITISH! EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!” 

Just then, every crewmember that was not working with the collapsibles, had run up the boat deck with the passengers. 

 

Mr. and Mrs. Thenadier held onto each other tightly. They had both climbed up the deck and rested themselves between the third and fourth funnels. 

 

Bahorel had climbed over the railing, and struggled to reach the end of the 1st Class Promenade Deck. 

 

Mabeuf had run out of the Verandah Café, and chanced to see Marius from the deck above.

“Marius!” he called. 

“Mabeuf! Have you seen my grandfather?!” 

Mabeuf stood silent before trying to cover the truth. “Yes…because of his old age, he was granted permission to board a lifeboat. He told me to find you and to tell you.” 

Marius nodded. “Right. Good luck to you!” He said.

Mabeuf returned the exchange. “And to you, sir!” 

 

Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Joly, and Lesgles climbed up the stairs to the Poop Deck, amongst hundreds of other passengers and crew. As the stern rose higher into the water, this would soon be the highest point of the ship before the final plunge. 

Smith had returned to the bridge…and kept a firm hand on the ship’s wheel.

Prouvaire and the others had succeeded in releasing the last collapsible. But they had launched it mere moments before a large of water had swelled up and consumed the bridge.

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Combeferre and his group were less fortunate with getting their boat turned over when the water came rushing around the deck. 

Eponine looked at Combeferre with pure terror in her eyes.

He held onto her tight and whispered “I love you…” 

“Hang on tight!” Feuilly said to everyone. The five passengers were joined by Lightoller and Bride moments before the water rushed up to everyone’s knees.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph it’s cold!” Gavroche shouted. Azelma pushed him on top of the upturned boat.

“Come on! Everybody hold onto the boat!” Combeferre exclaimed. 

They tried to climb onto the boat…but the rapid water made that very difficult. 

Feuilly was swept away by the wash. Azelma panicked and tried to grab a hold of him.

Combeferre was struggling with holding onto the boat with one hand, and holding Eponine with the other.

“Eponine! Hang On!” he cried. 

All of a sudden, he could feel the deck below him sink away, and they were all floating in the water. Combeferre lost his grip of the boat. “There’s no point! We need to swim away…or we’ll get sucked in…” 

This was the last complete sentence Combeferre could find the strength to form. The water was too cold…everyone started screaming in pain from the temperature.

The water had reached the roof where the collapsibles were kept. Collapsible B was well away by now. Bride and Lightoller were swimming towards it now.

Azelma grabbed onto Feuilly’s lifejacket shoulder straps, to keep him from floating away.

“Just hang on! We just have to swim back to the boat!” she whimpered to him, shivering in the cold.

Gavroche had succeeded in climbing up onto the upturned boat.

Prouvaire had managed to keep a firm grip on Collapsible A, before being able to pull himself up and over into it. He tried to pull Mr. Widener and his son, Harry in, but since the latter had no lifejacket and with the suction of the ship…this was not an easy matter.

And so Harry was caught in the suction, and Widener panicked, took off his lifejacket and dived in after him.

Colonel Astor was swimming to the other side of the ship, to reach Collapsible B…when it happened. 

SNAP!

Combeferre pulled Eponine along as he swam away from the ship, when he heard a loud SPLAT in the water. 

SNAP! SPLAT! 

Everyone stopped in silence, trying to find the source of this strange sound…

Colonel Astor was swimming nearby Feuilly and Azelma when the next SNAP! SPLAT! Was heard. 

The three of them looked back at the ship…

The first funnel appeared to look as if it was leaning from Port to Starboard, back and forth ever so slowly.

Suddenly, with a very loud moan…the funnel tipped over to the Port side, and came crashing down.

Gavroche was knocked off of the boat by the enormous wave caused by the collapse of the funnel.

Combeferre was hit hard in the face…and as a result, he had lost his glasses.

“Frank!” Eponine cried as she spat water out. “Are you alright?” 

For the first time since he’s been protective of her, Combeferre was the one to start panicking.

“My glasses…my…glasses…Ep…I…I can’t see! I CAN’T…SEE!” He stuttered from the cold.

“Just hang onto my lifebelt!” Eponine said, taking Combeferre’s hand and placing it on the shoulder strap of her lifejacket. “Follow me!” She ordered, as the two started swimming.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Mrs. Brown was rowing in the Lifeboat with Fleet, Peuchen, and a few more other passengers.

Cosette was helping her with their oar.

“We’re too far out! The officer said to stay close by to the ship!” Peuchen said

Quartermaster Hitchens remained at the helm. “If we stay too close, we’ll get caught by the suction.” 

“But the Captain ordered us to go back for more people.” 

“Ah to hell with the others! It’s our lives now! Not theirs!” 

Cosette objected. “They are our families and friends! We’ve plenty of room!” 

“Keep pulling! That’s an order!” Hitchens shouted. 

Mrs. Brown roller her eyes, as she and Cosette continued to row. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Valjean had managed to reach the railing next to Marius. They were at the Second Class Entrance. 

 

Javert was at the railing between the third and fourth funnel. 

 

Mr. and Mrs. Thenadier remained where they were. 

 

Bahorel had reached the Poop Deck with the others. 

 

Enjolras reached the very tip of the deck next to the flagpole. He watched in amazement as a crewmember, he thought it was a chef, held tight onto the flagpole; while chugging a flask of alcohol.

 

Lesgles, Courfeyrac and Joly held tight onto the railing. They managed to find spots on the platform of the rear steering wheel. 

Julien had turned to his two friends. “I’m sorry, friends.” Courfeyrac and Joly looked at him in confusion. “This is all my fault…I got the tickets…” 

“None of this is your fault, Julien!” Courfeyrac said, trying to reassure him. “None of us could have known. You did what you thought was right.”

Joly spoke next. “Julien…if we don’t make it out of this, I want you to know that if I were to decide my fate, it would still be beside my best friends. I couldn’t ask for more than that.” 

Julien shook hands with both of them. Joly continued. “You, however…you have somebody to fight for. That Clara girl. She’s taken a liking to you.”

“I figured as much when she told me why she talked to you…” Julien said. “But you’ve got to survive for her too. Clara won’t be able to get started on becoming a nurse without you as a resource!”

“How about we all try to make it out of this!” Courfeyrac said. 

“Of course, Henri. You need to survive because you keep our spirits high. The world will be one human darker without you.” 

Courfeyrac looked back at the front of the ship. “You think Prouvaire’s made it?”

Joly was about to answer…when the lights dimmed. 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

This had caught everyone’s attention.

By now, the ship was raised at an angle of perhaps twenty degrees. The second funnel was nearly in the water. 

Down below, in the Engine Room, the engineers had lost their battle with the lights. They’ve all stayed behind to keep them going as long as possible. 

The lights of the ship dimmed once, and then cut out completely. 

Cosette could hear the change in pitch of the screaming from the ship.

Clara wasn’t looking at the ship. She and the Goldsmiths and a few other women, were too busy glaring at Ismay, who had his back to the sinking ship. 

A loud moan shook them from their glare.

Javert could feel the deck beneath his feet shutter like no other vibration in the world.

It felt as if it was an earthquake. 

He turned around to see a few of the deck planks pop out of their place.   
Before he could grasp what was happening, he felt thrown back as all of a sudden…the great ship split in half, and the stern section fell back into the water. 

Mr. and Mrs. Thenadier fell back too. 

Marius lost his balance, fell against the structure of the Second Class entrance, and was knocked out cold. 

Valjean got a hold of him, checked a pulse, and picked him up. He decided to wait here until the end, then he would pull Marius to safety. 

 

Enjolras and Bahorel felt the strongest fall of the plunge. Enjolras kept a firm grip on the railing, but Bahorel was on the other side before the break. 

He lost his grip from the sudden gravity of the break, and fell off the ship. He landed in the water with a hard thud. 

 

Javert decided it was now or never. He took the moment to leaned over the railing, and dive right into the water.

Unfortunately, he made the mistake of jumping in feet first, with his cork-filled life-jacket on.

As soon as he hit the water, the lifejacket snapped his neck upon impact. 

 

Mr. and Mrs. Thenadier held onto each other’s hands as they too, hopped over the railing, and jumped into the water. 

 

Bahorel broke out of the water’s surface just in time to see the three giant propellers slowly rise up out of the water. 

 

The chef helped Enjolras over the railing. The ship was suddenly tilting faster than she was before. 

 

Lesgles, Joly and Courfeyrac held onto each other’s hands as strongly as they could.

By now, the bow section of the ship had completely detached itself from the stern section; as the bow had submerged in the water, the stern section had pointed straight up at the sky.

 

Enjolras looked over to his right, and he could see Father Byles holding tight to his bible. Only moments ago, he was giving last rites to a few dozen passengers. 

Then…suddenly, after one last loud moan, the ship began to descend beneath the waves. 

 

Valjean grabbed a hold of Marius as the water swept the two of them overboard. 

The Steward, Montparnasse, was hanging on for dear life on the railing to the Poop Deck. When he looked down and saw the water swallow the 1st Class Promenade, he decided to let go and jump into the water.

 

By now, Mrs. Brown was consoling a very hysterical Cosette. 

 

Clara tried her best to hold back tears. 

 

Courfeyrac stared at the approaching water with fear in his eyes.

 

Joly was purely petrified. 

 

Lesgles tried to get both of their attention. “We’ll make it, friends! Together!” 

 

Enjolras watched in horror as three of the men he had spent part of the voyage with, become washed away by the foam of the water. 

 

He decided it was now or never. He stood up and leapt off of the railing.

 

The chef had just stepped into the water without even getting his hair wet. 

 

Officer Lowe had looked back at the sight of the ship, and only saw large bubbles emerging from the water in its place.

“…she’s gone…” he said softly. 

The sounds of crashing waves were slowly replaced by the pained screaming and panicking from the 1,500 swimmers all around.

Now it truly was Every Man for Himself.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

“Say…that big steamer out there, the one firing rockets.” Claquesous said. “Looks as if she had gone now.” 

Officer Stone looked over to where the Quartermaster was pointing to. “Hmm…what’s the time?” 

“Zero Two-Twenty Hours, sir.” 

“Go and enter it into the log.” Stone said. 

“Aye-aye sir.” 

 

The great and mighty Titanic, once thought to be unsinkable, was now a victim of the Atlantic Ocean at 2:20 in the morning of April 15th, 1912, roughly two hours and forty minutes after striking an iceberg.


	10. April 15th, 1912...The Morning After

2:42 AM  
Monday, April 15th, 1912  
Latitude 41* 46’ N, Longitude 50* 17’W

Not many of the people swimming in the water were afraid of drowning. The good majority of them were wearing lifejackets. So they were not screaming from fear of drowning. 

Instead, they were screaming because of the bitter cold that the water was.

During this year, a lot more ice has broken off from Greenland, floating down the Labrador Current in the Atlantic Ocean. This has created more icebergs floating around, making the waters especially cold.

In other words, a swimmer would barely last half an hour before succumbing to hypothermia. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Gavroche struggled to keep his head above the water. When the wave from the collapsing funnel washed him overboard, he became separated from the others. And now his chances of finding them again were gone, now that it was pitch black. 

“Gavroche! Is…is that you?” a voice called out.

“Y..yes…who’s that..?” Gavroche shivered.

“It’s me…Henri.” Courfeyrac stuttered as he swam over to Gavroche. “It’s…kay…I’ve got you….” He grabbed a hold of Gavroche.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#**#*#*

 

Joly and Lesgles held onto each other while they were swimming together, trying to find something to float on. 

“Can…somebody…help us…please?” Joly cried out...his voice very weak.

“J-Joly? Joly? Where are you?” 

The two swimmers looked around, and realized it was Prouvaire calling out to them. 

“Over here!” Julien called out. 

Prouvaire took out an oar from the Collapsible and reached it out to them. “Here! Reach for the oar!” 

Julien went for it first, and Prouvaire helped him climb in. He collapsed inside the boat from exhaustion. 

Joly was a little weaker from the swimming, and the cold. 

“Julien…I can’t pull him up…can you help me?” Prouvaire struggled.

Lesgles tried to sit up and go over to help Prouvaire, but he was nearly just as weak as Joly was…

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Eponine tried to muster up enough strength to pull Combeferre along in the right direction. He could swim well, but without his glasses he felt useless.

She was rotating her one arm as much as she could, trying to move forward, when her hand struck something hard. 

It was Collapsible B again. 

“Frank…Over here…” she called out. 

She grabbed his hand and placed it on the boat, so he could get a feel for the surface enough to climb aboard.

They were shortly followed by Officer Lightoller, Radiomen Phillips and Bride, Jack Thayer, and the alcoholic chef. 

The group and at least 15 others huddled together on the upturned boat, struggling to keep balance. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

“Those people are either drowning or freezing to death out there!” Cosette pleaded. “We can’t just sit here idly as they die!” 

“As soon as we row over to them, they’ll swamp the boat or capsize us trying to climb in here. You want us to die with them?!” Hitchens asked rhetorically.

“Well it beats the hell out of being sitting ducks. Come on, girls. Let’s start rowing!” Maggie Brown demanded.

Hitchens stood up from the helm. “Hey!” he shouted. “I give the orders around here!” 

“Aren’t you aware that you’re speaking to a lady?” Peuchen objected. 

“I’m damn well aware of who I’m speaking to. That don’t change the fact that I’m in command of this boat!” 

Lookout Fleet rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, start rowing!” Maggie ordered.

“Didn’t you hear me?! I’ll have no more of this!” Hitchens threatened.

Maggie stood up and faced him. “One more word out of you, and I’m tossing you overboard!” Got it?!” 

Hitchens sat back down…defeated. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

“It ain’t right, I tell you!” Grantaire protested as he held onto an oar. “We can’t leave them out there to die!” 

“We’ll only get swamped.” A passenger said. 

“We shouldn’t.” Lady Duff Gordon said. “It’s crowded enough in here as we speak. I’m most upset about it.” 

Grantaire looked at her disgusted. “You won’t hear the last of this, lady! There’ll be inquires, and mark my words! You’ll regret your bloody decisions.” 

Lord Duff Gordon stood up, and handed Grantaire a small piece of paper.

“What the feck is this?” He said, before opening it up and revealing it to be a 5-pound note. 

“The decision stands, stoker. We are not going to budge.” 

Grantaire glared up at him, and realized he was being bribed for his silence.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Lifeboat #14 linked up with Boats 10, 12, and 4. 

Officer Lowe addressed all of the crew in the boats. “I want to transfer our passengers over to these other boats. We’re going back to pick up survivors.” 

The transfer took a good 10-15 minutes. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Valjean pulled an unconscious Marius through the freezing cold. He was beginning to grow weary as he approached Collapsible B.

“There’s no more room!” somebody said, ready to shove Valjean away. 

“Wait! This boy here…” Valjean said, motioning to Marius. “He’s hurt…I don’t care about myself.” 

“There’s no room, old man!” the man repeated. 

Eponine wrapped her arms around Combeferre tight, to keep him warm. She was wearing his overcoat, so he was dressed lighter than she was. 

“There’s one here dead, sir!” Jack Thayer said, holding somebody in his arms. 

“Are you sure?” Lightoller asked as he sat at the bow of the boat. 

“Yes, sir. Died from the exposure I think!” 

“Can you see who it is?” 

Thayer looked carefully at the dead body. “I think it’s one of the men from the Wireless Room…”

Bride looked up in shock. He knew who Thayer was talking about. “It’s Phillips…sir.” 

Lightoller motioned for Thayer to lower the body of Phillips into the water gently. Valjean took this moment to hoist Marius up onto the boat.

“You said you’re from the Wireless?” Lightoller asked. Bride nodded. “How long before the Carpathia arrives?” 

Bride shrugged his shoulders. “An hour or so, sir. Maybe less.” 

The chef motioned to the unconscious boy. “Is he alive?” he asked Valjean who was still in the water. 

“Yes…but I don’t know if he’ll make it unless he wakes up.” 

The chef pulled out his flask. “I know just the thing.” 

“Are you a cook?” Combeferre asked, shivering. 

“Baker, actually…been drinking this all night. That’s how I’m still alive!” 

He lifted Marius’s head, and poured some of the whiskey into his mouth. After a moment or two, Marius choked and spat out some of the drink. 

“Thank god…” Valjean said, before swimming away.

“Wait…come back!” Lightoller said. 

“If I die…” Valjean’s voice cracked in the cold. “Let me die. But let him live. He is young…he’s afraid. He’s only a boy. Let him rest…heaven blessed.” 

And with that, Valjean swam away into the darkness.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

For the past several minutes, Prouvaire was struggling aimlessly to pull Joly out of the water. 

Lesgles couldn’t find the strength anymore. 

Prouvaire looked down at Joly, and realized why he wasn’t helping himself up.

“Julien…” Prouvaire whispered. “I don’t think…Joly…he’s…”

“Don’t…don’t say it.” Lesgles muttered in a very quiet voice…it was almost hard for Prouvaire to hear him. “Just let him go…”

Tears began to form in Prouvaire’s eyes. He then turned to the lifeless body of Joly and whispered. “I’m sorry….”

He then let go of Joly’s wrist, and gave out a whimpered cry as he saw Joly slip beneath the waves.

“I’m sorry…Julien…I tried to save him…I wasn’t strong enough…” Prouvaire said, looking at the icy cold water. “I’m sorry Joly…” 

Prouvaire was so overcome with emotion he didn’t notice that Julien hasn’t spoken up.

“Julien?” he asked. No response.

Prouvaire slowly turned around to see Julien staring aimlessly…motionless, expressionless. His eyes were half open…

“Julien?!” Prouvaire asked once more. “JULIEN!” He cried out. 

He suddenly wept uncontrollably…He was all alone. 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

“HELLO!” Officer Lowe called out, shining his flashlight all around. “IS THERE ANYONE ALIVE OUT THERE?!” 

He listened for any sort of noise. Nothing happened. “IF ANYONE CAN HEAR ME, MAKE NOISE!” 

Just then, he heard a splash up ahead.

“Straight ahead, men! Watch for their heads!” Lowe ordered, as the oarsmen were rowing past the frozen bodies of the dead.   
It was a ghastly sight to say the least. Everywhere Lowe looked, he saw hundreds of frozen men, women…and children floating around in the water.

One of the oars had brushed past the lifeless bodies of Mrs. Allison and her child Lorraine.

The boat gently pulled its way toward the sound of the splash. 

Lowe shined his light up ahead, and saw a little boy clinging onto a life preserver.

“Over there! Come on!” Lowe shouted. 

They got close enough so that Lowe could reach down to the boy.

“Come on, son. Reach up for my hand. It’s alright…I won’t hurt you.” 

The boy shivered so badly he could barely even speak. “m…my…my…friend…he’s…I…”

Lowe reached down to pull the boy out of the water. Once he was safely aboard, he passed the boy down to another crewmember. 

“Get him warm!” Lowe ordered. 

While the crew had wrapped blankets around the boy, Lowe shined a light to where he was floating. 

The light spotted a young man…not moving an inch, face down in the water. 

Lowe looked over at the boy. He had a second lifejacket on. 

The friend must’ve sacrificed himself so that the boy may live…even if only for a little while longer.

Gavroche couldn’t get another word out…he was too cold. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Combeferre fell asleep in Eponine’s arms. As did almost everyone else. Only Lightoller and Colonel Archibald Gracie were fully awake. 

“Look, Mr. Lightoller…there’s a boat over there!” Gracie said. 

Lightoller struggled to pull out his whistle, and blow as hard as he could.

Combeferre awoke with a start. Eponine held his face.

“Are you alright, love?” She asked him.

His hands were shaking when he tried to nod. 

Within the next few minutes, the inhabitants of Collapsible B were safely transferred to another Lifeboat, as were the survivors of Collapsible A. 

 

3:25 AM  
RMS Carpathia, Atlantic Ocean  
Titanic’s last known location

“I don’t understand it…” Officer Dean said. “We should be there by now.” 

Rostron strained through his binoculars. He looked up from them, stared out into the horizon, then looked through them again. “I saw something.” He said.

Dean picked up his binoculars too. “There’s a flare!” 

“Fire a rocket or two!” Rostron ordered.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Officer Boxhall was waving a green flare around. In the distance, he could see a light flickering up in the air.

“They have to see us now…” he said to himself.

In Lifeboat #10, Eponine nudged to Combeferre, who was still in her arms. “Darling…there’s a ship coming! You can’t see well from here, but she is on her way! We’re safe.” 

Combeferre smiled weakly as he reached up to kiss her. “Just rest, love.” Eponine smiled. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#  
The Carpathia had arrived.

Within the hour, at least three or four lifeboats had approached the ship, and the survivors began climbing up the rope ladder.

Cpt. Rostron was greeted by Officer Boxhall who had stepped aboard the bridge, blanket wrapped around him.

“4th Officer Boxhall, sir.” He said. “To whom do we all owe our thanks?” 

“Captain Arthur Rostron, RMS Carpathia.” The Captain said, offering his hand. 

“Titanic foundered at or around 2:20 this morning. We’ve struck an iceberg at 11:40pm…”

“Any idea as to how many people were still aboard before she went down?” Rostron asked.

Boxhall looked grave. “Our boats…if filled to capacity…would’ve left about a thousand people behind…” he started.

Rostron could see the hesitation in his eyes. “But…?” Rostron prodded.

“…but the chances are, perhaps a thousand…and hundreds more on top of that…have perished in the waters.” 

“I’m having my pursers conduct a head count now. I’ll have my answer for you later this afternoon. In the meantime, please go down below…get yourself warm.” Rostron said, putting his hand on the Survivor’s shoulder.

“Yes sir…thank you, sir.” Boxhall said softly, before being escorted out of the bridge. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

As soon as they stepped onto the deck, Eponine helped Combeferre stand up. “Please…he needs help…He lost his glasses and now he can’t see very well.” She explained to an officer who was holding a clipboard. 

“Well, if you’ll kindly give your names please? And if you’ll step this way, there’s hot food and drink and blankets provided for you. I’ll pass this note along, and we’ll see if we can find a spare set for the lad.”

“Franklin…Frank…Combeferre…” he muttered.

“Very well…And your name, Miss?” 

“Eponine Th…Eponine…Combeferre.” 

Frank looked at her. She kept her arm around him as she helped him through the hallway.

“Has anyone by the name of Thenadier come aboard?”

The man looked at his clipboard, and shook his head. “No one as of yet.” 

Eponine’s heart dropped as she continued walking with Combeferre.

 

12:30 PM  
RMS Carpathia

The process of picking up the survivors took the better part of four hours. Most of the lifeboats were scattered about. 

By midday, seeing as there were no other survivors to be seen in the water, Captain Rostron gave the order to make a course for New York.

Down below, in the makeshift hospital, walking past hundreds of survivors wrapped in blankets, Clara had searched frantically for Julien.

She couldn’t find him anywhere, and was beginning to fear the worst when she saw Jean Prouvaire sitting on a deck chair with his blankets wrapped around him. 

“Mr. Prouvaire!” Clara rushed to him. “Thank god you are alright. Have you seen Julien?!” she pleaded.

Prouvaire slowly raised his head up to look at her. He remained silent.

“Mr. Prouvaire?” Clara asked again.

It wasn’t until she could see the tear roll down his cheek that she knew his answer before he could even say anything. 

“And…Joly?” she asked.

Jean finally responded by slowly shaking his head. “…sorry…” he whispered.

Clara nodded, then walked out of the room. When she stepped outside, she let the tears she had been building up out. She put a hand over her mouth leaned back against a wall and slid down to the deck, sobbing hysterically. 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

By 1:00 in the afternoon, Carpathia was underway. Cosette was walking around the deck, looking for a familiar face. She almost screamed when she found Marius asleep on a deck chair, looking white as a ghost.

“Oh God, Marius! What are you doing outside! You’ll freeze to death!” 

Marius slowly opened his eyes. “Cosette…?”

Cosette wept into Marius’s chest. “I’m here, darling! I’m here!” 

“Thank…God…” Marius said, raising an arm up to hold Cosette closely. 

“My grandfather?” Marius asked.

Cosette looked at him and shook her head. “He wasn’t on the list…” her face saddened as she continued. “And neither was my father.” 

Marius looked at her. “Mabeuf promised me he was safe on a boat…” 

And then his thoughts turned to those of the fate of Mabeuf. It was highly unlikely at this point that he would’ve survived either.

“Your valet, Mabeuf…he gave me something.” Cosette said, as she pulled out an envelope. “He told me not to open it until I was safely aboard another ship.” 

She opened up the envelope, to reveal two letters. She looked at them both, then handed one to Marius. “This one’s addressed to you…” she said.

Marius took the letter in his hands and read carefully.

 

My dear grandson,

If you are reading this, then I am already dead, and you are still alive. Thank god for that. I’ve given this letter to Cosette, with the blessing of her father. Before the collision, I’ve sent out a wireless to the Kerringtons. 

Cosette’s father and I had a very long talk…he saw how infatuated you were with each other. And he seemed to agree that you were a good match for her, as she is for you. 

I’ve wired the Kerringtons, asking for their forgiveness that I call off the arrangement. They responded saying that they understood. 

Mr. Fauchelevant…if he should survive this ordeal, has told me that he gives you permission and that you have his blessing, if you should choose to marry this girl.

All I ask, is that you forgive me…for all of the years I have failed you as a Grandfather. I am not worthy to be called that, and I ask for your forgiveness. I know full well the situation on board, and I am prepared to go down with the ship. Nothing Mabeuf can do will let me change my mind. I hope you live to see this letter.

Please forgive me,

Grandfather.

 

Cosette silently let the tears flow from her eyes as she read her father’s letter.

My dearest Cosette,

If you read this, and I am nowhere to be found, it is most likely that I am already gone. I’ve spoken with Mr. Andrews before I came to collect you…I know the ship is sinking, and I know the sea is freezing. 

I’ve enclosed in this envelope my will...witnessed by a few passengers. I do not know if they had survived, but if not, it doesn’t matter. 

The will entitles you to my inheritance as soon as you marry. I’m quite certain you love the boy. Lord Gillenormand spoke with me yesterday, the 14th of April. He told me that he has released Marius from any obligations to an arranged marriage. 

We both realized how deeply the two of you cared for each other…and we’ve had a long talk, and felt it best, for the sake of both of your happiness. 

I will do my best, and ensure that Marius survives no matter what. You two deserve each other. But if he does not survive…I pray to God that whatever happens, you will still find happiness.

I love you, daughter. You were the best thing to ever happen to me in my life after I’ve met your mother. I will make no attempt to save my own life. Fantine has waited long enough.

Watching over you, always,

Father.

 

Cosette covered her mouth to keep herself quiet while sobbing.

Marius leaned over to comfort her, and she wept into his arms.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Grantaire hustled around deck, frantically searching for Bahorel. He searched below decks, where the crew were being looked after. 

Along the way, he passed by Officers Lightoller, Pitman, Boxhall and Lowe;

Wireless Operator Harold Bride, whose feet were being bandaged from frost bite.

Lookout Frederick Fleet…who kept his face in his hands as he silently blamed himself for spotting the iceberg too late. 

Quartermaster Robert Hitchens who steered the Titanic into the path of eternity.

Leading Fireman Fred Barrett, and Stoker Sam Collins.

“Did either of you see Bahorel O’Malley?” Grantaire asked. The two of them slowly looked at him and shook their heads. 

Grantaire sighed, before taking a seat with them. “I’ve only been sober for the better part of two weeks…and yet I still feel sick to my stomach.” 

“I’d consider you a damn fool if you weren’t.” Sam replied. “This sort of thing just doesn’t happen…”

“No I mean…I was in a lifeboat that only had eleven others in it.” Grantaire said.

Barrett looked up at him. “Why didn’t your boat go back to pick up more?” 

Grantaire pulled out the check he was given. “I was paid well to do nothing, and to say nothing. But let me tell you, if I had the strength of ten men, that boat would’ve picked up dozens of the people in the water.”   
“So…that passenger bribed you to do nothing?!” Sam asked, appalled.

“Check made out by a Mr. …Cosmo Duff Gordon” Grantaire read from the check. 

“Grantaire…” Barrett said. “There’ll be inquires when we arrive. There’s no doubt about that. But you need to give a statement. That kind of behavior is just downright bastard-like.” 

“Oh I intend to. I’ll see to it that he is ruined.” Grantaire promised. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

 

Combeferre was sitting on a deck chair, wrapped in a blanket, with a cup of tea in hand. 

He never touched the tea. 

He was staring out into the deep blue sea as it slowly moved past him. At least he thought it was the deep blue sea. His vision was terrible right now. The lack of sleep made it worse. 

“Mr. Combeferre?” a voice called out. 

He turned his head to the direction of the voice. He couldn’t tell who it was.

“My name is Johnny Ashford from Maryland. I’m from the Carpathia. I was told that you were in need of a pair of glasses?”

Combeferre slowly nodded. “I do…but I can wait until we reach New York…”

“Nonsense! These are my old reading glasses, and I rarely use them. Please! At least try them and see if they work.” Ashford insisted.

Frank sighed and extended his hand so Ashford placed the glasses in his hands.

“Better?” Ashford asked.

To Frank’s surprise, it felt much better to be able to see again. It felt like ages. “Yes…much better. Thank you.” 

“Not at all. When I heard what happened, my brother and I were up and about all morning trying to do our parts to help you all in any way possible.” 

Combeferre nodded again. “At some point, I would wish to speak to your captain, and thank him personally.” 

“I’m sure he’s already being overwhelmed by the dozens of survivors showering him with thanks for rescuing them. But I’m sure you’re more than welcome to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back and start passing out the soups to everyone.” 

And with that, Ashford got up and walked away.

A steward had approached Combeferre. “Has your tea grown cold? Would you like me to fetch another?” he asked, eyeing the unconsumed tea in Combeferre’s cup.

“Actually…I was wondering if you can help me.” Frank said, sitting up. “I was wondering if the final list of survivors has been completed?” 

The steward nodded and took out his notepad. “Are you looking for any names in particular?”

“James Enjolras, of Second Class. And anyone of the Thenadier family of Third Class?”

“Certainly, sir. I’ll return as soon as I have more information.” The steward said before hustling off.

Frank returned his gaze back to the sea. As soon as he began to study the clear texture of the dark blue ocean…his mind began to race.

When Eponine had returned, she could see the panic in Frank’s eyes, and she understood why.

“Frank? Frank! It’s me!” Eponine said, rushing to him and holding his face in her hands.

“Ponine…” He said after taking a deep breath. “I thought…I thought I fell overboard…” 

“You’re safe! Don’t worry! We’re not letting you anywhere near the water. Let’s get you inside though. It’s too cold.” Eponine said.

As she helped Combeferre up out of the chair, neither of them noticed the cup in Combeferre’s lap, which fell off the lap and fell down on the deck and shattered into a hundred pieces.

Combeferre felt a jolt in the back of his mind. The crashing sound of the cup triggered a particular moment in his mind.

It was the last sight he saw before his glasses were lost in the wash.

“Oh My God!” Combeferre yelped. Eponine grabbed a hold of his arm. “What?!” she asked, worried.

“Feuilly and Azelma!” He panicked. “They’re…it…it was the…first funnel!! Eponine…I think they’ve been crushed!”   
Eponine’s eyes widened. “WHAT?!” 

“I saw the funnel collapse…they weren’t too far from it…and I couldn’t hear their voices after that…” 

Eponine nearly lost a grip of Frank’s arm. It was painful enough to believe that her own little young sister was dead…but to have it happened right in front of her. “No…NO!” she whimpered. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

The two were sitting on a couch inside the lounge area, which was now converted into a dormitory. 

The steward had found them as he approached with a clipboard. 

“Excuse me, sir? You’ve asked for a Mr. James Enjolras and the Thenadier family?” 

Combeferre looked up. “Yes!” he said.

The steward looked through his clipboard. “Well…unfortunately, I do not see a Mr. Enjolras in the list…” 

Frank’s heart sank. Eponine rubbed his back for emotional support. 

The time he spent with James flashed before his eyes…he couldn’t believe it now. It seemed so surreal…he was hoping he would just wake up from it all…

…but that would’ve also meant waking up in a world without Eponine. He gripped onto her, needing her embrace now more than ever. 

But it still couldn’t phase him that James Enjolras is dead.

What on Earth would Mr. Lamarque say? If the shock of Titanic sinking wouldn’t kill the old man, the death of one of his best tenants certainly would…

“And as for the Thenadiers…”

Eponine leaned forward. “There’s only one survivor under that name…I am sorry.”

At first, Eponine could feel her heart drop, but then remembered;

She gave her last name as Frank’s. “Who is it? The survivor?” Eponine asked.

The steward looked again. “A little kid by the name of Gavroche.” 

Eponine and Combeferre both sighed with relief. “Where is he?” 

“In the hospital. He’s contracted hypothermia during the night, but he is appearing to recover.” 

Combeferre kept a firm grip on Eponine’s hand. “May we go to him?”

“I’m afraid not right now. He’s resting from the experience, but I will have someone send for you when he is awake.” The steward said.

“Thank you…” Eponine said. 

When the steward walked away, Frank turned to Eponine, hands still locked together. 

“Eponine?” he asked. She turned to him, with tears in her eyes. “You told the purser your last name was mine as well…” 

Eponine looked down at her hands. “I did…”

“Why? I’m not to say that I regret it, because I don’t. But I just wanted to know…why did you do that?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. “I felt…if I gave my original name, they would’ve had us separated by class again…I couldn’t bear to lose you again…” she admitted. 

Frank took her chin in his hand. “I’m glad you did.” Her eyes met his…sparkling with the reflection of tears dripping down her cheeks. “Saved me the trouble of finding out…”

“Finding out what?” she asked. 

“If when I was going to ask you…if you would’ve said yes or no…” Combeferre looked down.

Eponine’s heart began racing. “Ask me what?” 

“Eponine…after we consummated love last night…” Combeferre began. “I decided then and there…that I was going to ask you to marry me…” 

She put her hand over her mouth.

“I was hoping to meet you whenever we would’ve arrived in New York…I decided I would ask you when we past the Statue of Liberty…” 

She took his face in her hands and kissed him softly. As they continued kissing, she rubbed his forehead as gently as she could.

He thought she must know what she’s doing, because when she placed her hands on his forehead, the pain he felt from wanting to cry, disappeared. 

“You can still ask me, Franklin…but I’m sure we both know the answer.”

Combeferre smiled, and leaned in to kiss her again.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Captain Rostron had called in a meeting with all of his officers to debrief them, as the Carpathia maintained its course for New York into the sunset.

He had asked for the final head count from his purser.

The Purser had checked his clipboard.

“In First Class, there were three hundred and twenty-five passengers. Two hundred and two of them survived.

“Second Class held two hundred and eighty-five. One hundred and eighteen survived.

“Third Class had at the very most, seven hundred and six passengers. They’ve been dealt a hard blow by far…as the survivors from this class alone, only add up to one hundred and seventy-eight.” 

“And the crew?” Rostron asked.

“Nine hundred and eight men and women served aboard the ship. Two hundred and seventy-two came aboard this ship.

Rostron leaned over the chart table, and put his face in his hands. “That makes a total of two-thousand, two hundred and twenty-four passengers and crew. Take away seven hundred and ten survivors…and that leaves us with…”

“Fifteen hundred and fourteen perished souls…” An officer had finished. 

“Dearest God…” Rostron muttered. “The lifeboats could’ve carried more people…” he thought to himself. 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

J. Bruce Ismay was sitting inside a room, asking to be confined, having undergone a severe shock. 

This was only after Cosette came across him and slapped him good and hard across the face.


	11. April 16th--18th

TUESDAY, APRIL 16th, 1912  
RMS Carpathia

The Ship’s Doctor had led Eponine and Combeferre to the hospital room where Gavroche was resting. 

He had slept the better part of the day before, but was now conscious enough to receive visitors.

When he saw Eponine standing there, he tried to lift up his arms to her, and she rushed over to hug him as tightly as possible. 

“We didn’t think you’d make it!” Eponine wept.

“Hey! Little People know when little people fight, we may look easy pickings but we’ve got some bite!” Gavroche tried to laugh. 

Combeferre tussled the boy’s hair. “Don’t exert yourself, little one. You still need some rest.” He said softly. 

After pulling away from Eponine, Gavroche turned to face both of them. “Where’s Mama and the others?”

Eponine looked to Combeferre for guidance. 

“Gavroche…” Eponine began. “Azelma…and Feuilly…” 

Combeferre touched her arm, and continued for her. “…were two of the bravest passengers I’ve ever had the privilege to know.”

Eponine looked at him as he continued. “The last I saw of them…they helped a dozen children climb up the boat deck. They put the children before themselves…they were very brave.”

“Frankie…I don’t want you lying to me just because I ain’t yet a day older than sixteen…”

Combeferre’s heart dropped. “What do you mean?”

“I heard you cry out that you couldn’t see. Your glasses are different…you lost your glasses when that smokestack crashed…”

And that’s when Gavroche put two and two together. “It got both of them…didn’t it?” he whispered.

Eponine gave up the struggle fight back tears. “I’m sorry…Gavroche…Neither of us figured it out until yesterday afternoon…I thought we just became separated in the water…”

Gavroche took a deep breath. “Lord give me strength to say this, but there is a little part in this little body, that is grateful that at least…their deaths were quick and painless…”

Eponine grabbed him by the shoulders. “Gavroche Patrick Thenadier! How dare you speak ill of them!” 

Gavroche shot back “Would you rather they’d freeze and die a slow agonizing death?! You think I wasn’t there to witness the two?!” 

Combeferre put his hand on Eponine’s back, letting Gavroche continue.

“That Frenchman. Henri…he bloody sacrificed himself for me. Gave me his own lifejacket and a life preserver. You think I don’t know what it’s like to see someone freeze to death?!” there were tears in his eyes.

Eponine pulled him for another hug “I’m sorry…Gavroche…”

“It’s alright, ‘Ponine…” 

Combeferre then realized what Gavroche had said. “Henri Courfeyrac? He didn’t make it either?” 

Gavroche shook his head. Combeferre stood up. “You two stay here. I’m going out to see if there’s anyone that we know that has survived.” 

This time, Eponine did not stop him, nor begged to go with him. She just grabbed his wrist and nodded to him that she understood. “Be careful.” She said.

Combeferre took her hand and kissed it. “I’ll be right back.” 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Combeferre was walking around the hundreds of survivors sitting on the deck chairs. 

Along the way, he could see Lawrence Beesly wrapped in a heavy coat. Combeferre stopped in his tracks and sat down next to him.

“Seven hundred survivors…” Beesly muttered. “Not exactly the twelve hundred that we had talked about, is it?” 

Combeferre exhaled deeply and shook his head. “Many passengers refused to board…they didn’t take the danger seriously. The Officers should’ve been more clear…”

“It would’ve caused panic…and then no one could’ve been saved.” Beesly countered. 

Combeferre gripped the arm rests of his chair. “So…in a nutshell, this was inevitable?”

“Perhaps…but the sacrifice may not be in vain…I hope.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Beesly explained. “I’m sure by now you would know that there will be inquiries made into the disaster…from both the American and British. If we give our testimonies, they’ll have to change the maritime regulations.”

“You mean…something like, carrying enough lifeboats for all on board?” Combeferre suggested.

Beesly nodded. “Well…at least we can only hope that will occur. Then again…arrogance has overruled many things before in the past.”

Combeferre contemplated that idea. “If that were the case…I could never go back to England now. After we dock…I won’t be so sure I’ll ever go on another ship again as long as I live.” 

Just then, his eyes caught those of Jean Prouvaire. Combeferre quickly excused himself and rushed over to Prouvaire.

“Prouvaire…I’m glad to see you alive.” 

“You’ve heard about the others?” Jean asked.

Combeferre’s expression dropped. “I only heard about Courfeyrac…and I know about Enjolras…I assume then…you are referring to Joly and Lesgles, then?” 

Prouvaire nodded. 

Combeferre sighed in frustration. “So many people…” 

“We were all at the stern when the end came…” Prouvaire said. “The last I saw of your friend Enjolras…he was sitting on top of the railing…grabbing tight onto the ship’s flagpole. It still held the British Blue Ensign flag... I’ll never forget that image in my head…he held onto that flag as if he was waving it around…bravely defying the forces that would claim him. I’ve never seen a more iconic symbol of bravery.”

Combeferre then noticed some pieces of paper in Prouvaire’s hands. They were sketches. “You’re trying to capture it?” he asked.

“Oui. I hope this will not offend you…but I felt I had to draw it out…my feelings I mean…”

Combeferre comforted Jean. “By all means…draw it all. Let this be told. We need the people of the world to know and to learn from his kind of bravery.” 

Jean slowly nodded. On a small notebook he had in his hands…he continued to write out sentences for something.

“It’s a poem I’m writing…in honor of those lost.” He explained. 

Combeferre cracked a smile.

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Eponine stayed with Gavroche in the hospital room. Gavroche was sleeping when Combeferre entered. 

She stood up to face him. “Any luck?” She asked. 

“Only Prouvaire…” Combeferre whispered. Eponine lowered her head. “Part of me was preparing to learn that no one else survived…”

Eponine nodded in agreement. “It’s the sort of news one would expect to hear. I’ve almost stopped growing curious as to who else perished in the sinking…”

She then went over to the porthole to gaze out into the sunset. “A lot of people…Mr. Goldsmith…Theobold…Feuilly’s friend Alfred. The entire Sage family…Farrell and Gallagher…” she said, speaking of the Third Class victims.

Combeferre noticed that she wasn’t mentioning her own family members…and he knew not to speak for her.

After a few minutes of silence, Combeferre stood up and walked over to her. She immediately walked over to be in his arms. He held her tight.

“Will you still go to Boston?” She asked, her face in his chest.

“I don’t know…Part of me wishes never to see the ocean again. Boston’s very close to water…I don’t care to see large bodies of water until the day I die…” Combeferre admitted.

“But your office?” she asked. 

“Oh…” he forgotten all about the pre-made arrangements. “I suppose I’ll have to travel there…and explain to them in person that I will have to decline the place.” 

She held his face in his hands so that he looked directly into her eyes. “Will you be fine travelling there?” she asked him firmly. “I don’t know if the ocean will be anywhere in sight…and I saw how you reacted yesterday.”

“I know…” Combeferre replied. “As for Boston…maybe it won’t be so bad. We won’t know where it is until we get there.” 

“And…Gavroche?” she motioned to her sleeping brother.

Combeferre did not take a pause this time when he answered “He’s coming with us. We’re not letting him venture out into the New World all alone.” 

Eponine smiled at him. “At least until he’s my age. When he’s eighteen, if he wishes to, he can seek out is own fortune or whatever the future may bring.” 

Combeferre returned the smile and pulled Eponine’s hair back past her shoulders.

It was then her eyes widened. 

“My ribbon!” she gasped, reaching through her hair. 

“What? What happened?” Combeferre asked, with growing concern. 

“I must’ve…I must’ve lost it in the sea.” She said feeling around. 

Combeferre looked confused at her. After feeling her hair, she gave a defeated sigh and said “My sister fixed my hair the other night…it was the last thing I had that she gave to me…” 

He put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry…” he said. 

Then he walked over to his overcoat that was hanging on the chair. He searched through the coat’s pockets, and was surprised that his tie was still in there.

He pulled it out and showed it to her.

“It isn’t exactly a ribbon…but just in case you wanted…” he tried to find the right word.

She held up her hand smiling. “I appreciate the offer…but it is simply the point that my sister gave that to me…”

Combeferre nodded. “I understand.” 

 

WEDNESDAY APRIL 17th, 1912  
RMS Carpathia

 

Clara was leaning against the railing, staring out into the open sky and the clear blue waters. She was later joined by Prouvaire.

“Miss Musichetta…” he said as he approached her. “You should take care not to stay out for too long. It’s still too cold.” 

Clara nodded in response, before speaking up. “Why were we all punished?” 

Jean looked at her. “I’m sorry?” he asked.

Clara looked back at him. “I was just thinking…” she began. “They’ve often said in the newspapers before the voyage even began ‘God Himself Cannot Sink this Ship’. And yet…somehow, we are the ones who suffered the consequences the most.” 

Prouvaire nodded in acknowledgement. “Sometimes I wonder if we live under a merciful God.” He mused. 

“Do you not believe in God?” she asked him.

He sighed and said “If there is a God…then He must’ve not cared as to whom he spared and whom he took.”

“You are correct with what the newspapers said. In fact, this is very similar to Greek legends. When the Gods saw that the Titans decided to challenge them…”

“…the Titans were sent to Hell for their arrogance.” Clara finished.

Jean nodded. “The ship’s name certainly fit the description.” 

“But why weren’t those responsible punished for their arrogance?” Clara asked. “Why did God have to kill so many innocent people?” 

Prouvaire sighed and leaned against the railing next to her. “I wish I had the answer, Miss Musichetta.” Clara looked up at him and smiled sadly. “Maybe…this is God’s way of saying that no matter what…whether anyone is in the right…or in the wrong…we will all die.” 

Clara shifted uncomfortably. “In other words…” she began. “No one is safe.” 

Jean never answered. Instead he simply put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. 

“This may be the biggest wake-up call the world has ever been faced with.” She said, resting her head against Jean’s shoulder. 

Jean rested his head against hers. “That in itself…certainly is the moment of truth.” 

 

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Cosette was sitting at a table in the 1st Class Lounge, silently spinning the spoon around in her soup bowl. Her soup was hardly touched. 

Marius approached her. “Sorry I took so long.” He said as he sat down across from her. “Mrs. Brown has called for my aid; she was tending to some of the less fortunate survivors…” 

Cosette didn’t look up. She just continued stirring her soup aimlessly. 

“Cosette?” he asked. “Is everything alright?” 

She silently shook her head. “I saw the Allison Nanny. She was holding the baby.” 

Marius looked at her for a moment before he realized what she was talking about. “The little girl…” he said.

Cosette wiped away a tear. “The mother didn’t know…and the Nanny didn’t even tell her…”

Marius took a deep breath before leaning in on the table. “Cosette…what happened that night…it’s not the sort of thing where everyone can maintain they’re senses. What happened there…either it brought out the best in us…or the worst in us.” 

Cosette held her forehead. “Somehow…it’s easier to find the worst in the survivors…”

Marius looked at her as if she was talking about him. “No, Marius…” she continued. “You didn’t take a woman’s spot in the boats…I’m talking about Ismay. And the owner of the car that the ship kept in the cargo hold.”

“William Carter.” Marius answered for her. She nodded. “I overheard his wife yelling at him, claiming he got off before she did. It wouldn’t surprise me if she filed for divorce over this…”

“But we must also remember…” Marius said, trying to diffuse Cosette’s anger. “…that this also brought out the best in people. The Strausses for example…their love for each other…they refused to leave each other’s side. If that isn’t honorable, I don’t know what is.” 

Cosette nodded. “I saw them. And the musicians…and how they played to keep the passengers calm…even to the very end.” 

“I was near the Aft Deck when I last heard them…” Marius recalled. “It was a slow hymn…but I can’t remember if it was Autumn or Nearer my God to Thee…” he paused. “None of them made it…” 

Cosette shook her head. “I was so hoping…” she said softly. “That if there were any man who deserved to live…it would be Mr. Andrews…there will be so many questions that only he could have had the answers to.” 

Marius held her hand as she continued. “And…my father…” she said…lips trembling. 

“I was told he was the one who took me from the sea…carried me like a child, and brought me aboard that upturned boat…if that is true…I will thank that man for the rest of my life…even if only in spirit.” 

Cosette smiled behind her tears. “He always was a giving man…”

“Yes…” Marius said softly. “He gave you to me.” 

She looked up in his eyes, and smiled. “And he gave you to me.” 

The two of them held each other’s hand tighter. 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

Eponine sat in the chair next to Gavroche’s bed. Combeferre had entered the room. 

“Well?” she asked him. He shook his head. 

“I couldn’t send a wire out to Boston. The Wireless Operators were overwhelmed with sending out messages to everyone about what happened. And when they’re not sending, they’re receiving hundreds of messages demanding answers.”

“From whom?” Gavroche asked.

“Friends…family members…they all are anxious to know if their loved ones survived. That’s what the Operator with bandaged feet told me.”

“Bandaged feet?” Eponine asked.

“He’s the Operator who survived with us on the collapsible. He said his feet were so badly frostbitten, they had to bandage them.” 

“Oh god…how horrible.” Eponine muttered. 

“But he certainly is a trooper…” Combeferre mused. “He’s been helping Cottam, Carpathia’s Operator non-stop. 

Eponine reflected on the name. “Cottam…the man who saved seven hundred lives…” 

Combeferre then turned to the two. “You should both get some rest. We’ll be arriving tomorrow night…and with everything that’s happened, I suspect disembarking will be no easy matter.

“You’re one to talk, Franklin.” Eponine said. “You’re the one who’s been out and about the most out of the three of us.” 

“I know…” Combeferre sighed. 

After bidding Gavroche goodnight, the two left the room.

 

THURSDAY, APRIL 18th, 1912  
RMS Carpathia  
Off the Coast of New York

 

“…I was more so his protégé. We worked together in the London Office of Conkling & Lambeth. We were to be transferred to the new office in Boston. But…not only did I lose him, but all of our paperwork went down with the ship, including our forms to apply for American Citizenship.” Combeferre explained to an officer who was seated at a table writing out forms for the survivors/immigrants.

“Hmm…” the officer muttered as he continued writing. And this is your newlywed, Mrs. Combeferre?” he said, motioning to Eponine.

She blushed and nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ve married back in Queenstown shortly before the voyage. But… we’ve lost our rings in the sea.” 

Combeferre put his hands in his pockets. It was only now that he felt something in them…

“And…Master Thenadier is your younger brother?” 

“Yes, sir. Since our parents have perished…” she swallowed on the words. “He’s to be in our care for the time being.” 

The officer finished his paperwork. “Well, it shouldn’t necessarily be a problem. The way I see it…” he said before handing the paperwork to Combeferre. “the procedures may include a few more…complications.” 

“Complications?” Combeferre asked.

“Without a form of identification, the process of applying for legal citizenship may take longer than it would have…if the Titanic had reached New York with no trouble…” 

Eponine grabbed a hold of Combeferre’s shoulders, as the officer continued speaking.

“However, given your current circumstances, the Yankee Immigration Offices will be more than obliged to be of any assistance they can muster up. That doesn’t guarantee a faster process, but with all the necessary procedures, you’ll still be able to apply for citizenship with no trouble.”

Eponine and Gavroche sighed with relief. Combeferre asked “One more thing…When we land…would it be possible to send a wire back to England?” 

The officer sighed. “It’ll be quite a backlog, but not impossible. After you disembark in New York, there should be a Western Union station just outside of the Piers. If you do not mind the long wait, you should be able to send a wire out.” 

“Thank you so much for your time, sir,” Combeferre said as he stood up.

“Glad to be of service. Next?” The officer called for the next passenger. 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

“Gavroche,” Combeferre said. “Why don’t you go inside, and get yourself some soup. You won’t want to land in America on an empty stomach!” 

“Right-O!” Gavroche said as he hurried off into the Dining Saloon.

Combeferre kept a firm grip of Eponine’s hand as they walked out to the forecastle deck. 

The thunder had started to rumble as they leaned out to the railing.

In another ten to twenty minutes…the Statue of Liberty would be approaching on the Carpathia’s Port side.

“What did you send Gavroche away for?” Eponine asked. “You look as if you have something for a thought?” 

He turned around to face Eponine. “Darling…” he began. “I felt something in my pockets today…and when you weren’t looking I closely examined them.”

Eponine listened intently, her eyes never leaving his.

“I can only guess as to when and how they got there…I suspect it may have been…your father.”

Eponine’s smile faded. “When your parents gave us their lifejackets…when your father slipped his onto me…I think…he intentionally slipped these into my pocket.” 

Eponine felt her heart plummet as he pulled out his hand from his pocket revealing two wedding rings.

She had to cover her mouth in shock. “Please forgive me, Eponine…” he continued. “I didn’t even know until today when we were having our paperwork completed.”

Tears were beginning to form in Eponine’s eyes. “Either they knew they were going to die…or…” she began.

He took her hand in his. “…or perhaps…if they didn’t know…if they survived or not…” he stumbled upon his words.

She took her free hand and held his cheek. “Just say it, Franklin Combeferre.” 

“Maybe…this was their sign…that they approve of me…of us?” he said softly. 

Eponine’s eyes were flooding with tears. “Oh stop your mumbling and be quick! The Statue is passing us by!” she exclaimed.

The rain started to pour, as Combeferre got down on one knee. “Eponine Katie Thenadier…in spite of everything that has happened…in spite of our worlds turning upside down…will you make me the happiest…luckiest man in the world…and do me the honor…of…”

“Oh shut up and kiss me you fool!” She exclaimed as she pulled him up to kiss him. 

The cold rain did not seem to faze the two as they did not pull away from their kiss. 

In their minds...at least in what they imagined…they could sense Lady Liberty smiling down at them, as if welcoming them with open arms. 

 

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

 

It was late in the evening by the time Carpathia had docked at Pier 54. The survivors were lining up alongside the Starboard Deck, anxiously awaiting to step off of the ship and onto dry land. 

Darcy Grantaire had just returned from receiving severance pay. His pay stub technically stopped at midnight on April 15th, when the Titanic was declared doomed. Keeping the bribe check firmly secure in his pocket, he would stay around in New York long enough to testify at the inquiries that were sure to take place. He no longer cared about himself. He no longer cared about being cynical toward others. He no longer cared for a pint of beer. All he cared about, was to expose the corruption that took place in front of him. To speak out against the lack of lifeboats. To denounce those responsible for fifteen hundred lost souls. 

 

Clara Musichetta had stayed closely to Jean Prouvaire. The two of them decided they would stay together for their new start in the New World. There weren’t necessarily romantic feelings addressed or felt, but at the very least, the two would find emotional support for each other. And with all of their loved ones gone, that was more than they could ask for. 

 

Marius Pontmercy and Cosette Fauchelevant were dreading stepping off the docks the most. From their spot, they could see the hundreds of flashes coming from the Vest Pocket Kodak cameras. Since they both travelled in First Class, they knew they would most likely get a lot of unwanted attention. Luckily, Mrs. Brown was close by to protect them and to fend off the obnoxious reporters. 

 

Eponine and Gavroche Thenadier both felt somewhat nauseous as they could feel the ship being slowly pulled in towards the Pier. It was one thing to imagine this experience on the Titanic. It was a completely different feeling to see it from a rescue ship, minus three of their family members. But they knew they had to endure the New World at all costs. If nothing else, then for at least for the memories of those lost. 

 

Franklin Combeferre kept his hands on Eponine’s shoulders. In the past few days he felt protective of her and her little brother. But now that they were fast approaching the docks he felt even more protective than he could imagine. His intention was to rush past the reporters and the friends/relatives of the survivors and get the three of them far away from the crowds. From there he wasn’t really sure as to where they would go. But none of that mattered. All that mattered, was that he had a family to look after now. A broken one, true. But his responsibility had greatly changed within the week.

 

Eponine played with the newly placed ring on her finger. It was only a week since she first saw her childhood sweetheart. And now here she was…engaged to him without a worry in the world. Without him by her side…she would’ve felt scared, being in the New World all alone with Gavroche. But now, she feels completely safe…a sensation she never thought possible with any other man. 

Suddenly, the vibrations felt underneath the deck had stopped, and the two gangplanks had extended from the docks and attached to the gangway doors, granting the seven hundred and ten survivors the final passage, to land…freedom…and safety.


	12. The List

EPILOGUE

THE CREW  
Captain Edward John Smith…Dead

The Officers  
Henry Wilde…Dead  
William Murdoch…Dead  
Charles Lightoller…Survived  
Alexander Javert…Dead  
Herbert Pitman…Survived  
Joseph Boxhall…Survived  
Harold Lowe…Survived  
James Moody…Dead

The Wireless Operators  
Jack Phillips…Dead  
Harold Bride…Survived

Deck Crew  
Quartermaster Robert Hitchens...Survived  
Quartermaster Alfred Rowe...Survived  
Lookout Frederick Fleet...Survived  
Lookout Reginald Lee...Survived  
Steward John Montparnasse…Dead  
Stewardess Clara Musichetta…Survived  
Chief Baker Charles Joughlin…Survived

The Ship’s Orchestra…Dead

Engine/Boiler Crew  
Fred Barrett…Survived  
Sam Collins…Survived  
Darcy Grantaire…Survived  
James Hesketh…Dead  
Bahorel O’Malley…Dead

 

FIRST CLASS  
Mr. Hudson Allison…Dead  
Mrs. Bess Allison…Dead  
Ms. Lorraine Allison…Dead  
Master Trevor Allison…Survived  
Nanny Alice Cleaver…Survived  
Mr. Thomas Andrews…Dead  
Colonel John Jacob Astor IV…Dead  
Mrs. Madeline Astor…Survived  
Mme. Pauline Aubert…Survived  
Mrs. Margaret Brown…Survived  
Major Archibald Butt…Dead  
Mr. William Carter…Survived  
Mrs. Lucille Carter…Survived  
Ms. Lucy Carter…Survived  
Master Billy Carter…Survived  
Miss Edith Evans…Dead  
Mr. Jonathon “Valjean” Fauchelevant…Dead  
Ms. Cosette Fauchelevant…Survived  
Miss Dorothy Gibson…Survived  
Lord Georges Gillenormand…Dead  
Mr. Kenneth Mabeuf…Dead  
Mr. Benjamin Guggenheim…Dead  
Mr. Joseph Bruce Ismay…Survived  
Mr. Clarence Moore…Dead  
Mr. J.H. Rogers (Jay Yates) …Dead  
Mr. Isador Straus…Dead  
Mrs. Ida Straus…Dead  
Mr. John B. Thayer…Dead  
Mrs. Marion Thayer…Survived  
Mr. Jack Thayer…Survived  
Mr. George Widener…Dead  
Mrs. Eleanor Widener…Survived  
Mr. Harry Widener…Dead

 

SECOND CLASS  
Mr. Lawrence Beesly…Survived  
Mr. Franklin Combeferre…Survived  
Mr. Henri Courfeyrac…Dead  
Mr. James Enjolras…Dead  
Mr. Julien Lesgles…Dead  
Mr. Jean Prouvaire…Survived  
Mr. Joly Rivera…Dead

 

THIRD CLASS  
Mr. Jim Farrell…Dead  
Mr. Martin Gallagher…Dead  
Mr. Frank Goldsmith…Dead  
Mrs. Emily Goldsmith…Survived  
Master Frank Goldsmith…Survived  
Mr. Feuilly Kowalski…Dead  
Master Alfred Rush…Dead  
The Sage Family…Dead  
Mr. Brian Thenadier…Dead  
Mrs. Patricia Thenadier…Dead  
Miss Eponine Thenadier…Survived  
Miss Azelma Thenadier…Dead  
Master Gavroche Thenadier…Survived  
Mr. Tom Theobold…Dead  
Mr. August Wennerstrom…Survived

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Thank you to everyone who has read this fanfic! I am such a Titanic nerd it’s not even funny! Please rate and review! I’d love to hear your feedback! And in case any of you like this story, you’ll be glad to know that yes I am working on a direct sequel to this! Please R&R, I do read your comments and will respond  And I am also very keen to the follow-for-follow step as well. Thank you again!


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